


Dopamine

by Em_i_a



Category: House M.D.
Genre: During Canon, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Relationship(s), Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, will they? wont they?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_i_a/pseuds/Em_i_a
Summary: After a spontaneous decision to transfer to a new workplace, Eleanor Kade must face the trials and tribulations of restarting her nursing career at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, where she is immediately dragged into the chaotic lives of the doctors that reside within it.(Note: This takes place over several seasons of House, in turn, some things (nothing major) will be slightly tweaked for storytelling purposes; hopefully, this will still be a-okay for all of you. Side note: I suck at writing summaries that don't give things away, so I kept this one very vague, the tags pretty much give most of the plot away though :) )
Relationships: Allison Cameron/Greg House, James Wilson (House M.D.)/Original Female Character(s), Lisa Cuddy/Greg House
Comments: 27
Kudos: 30





	1. Everybody Lies (Part One)

“Mom…Trust me, I would love to come over tonight and have dinner with you, Thomas, and Lucy, but I’ve got work today.”  
  
“Excuses, excuses, excuses. That’s all I hear from you!"   
  
“It’s not an excuse mom.”  
  
“Well, it sure sounds like it…Work never deterred you from seeing us before, so I don’t know what’s changed.”

“What’s changed is the fact that I’ve been transferred to a new hospital, and I need to make sure I’m free just in case I don’t get all my charting done for the day. Now…I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re a little less angry with me, okay?”  
  
“Sure…As usual.”  
  
With that, Eleanor placed the corded phone back onto the hook, releasing a deep sigh of relief, realizing that she had gotten herself off the line in record time, three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, it was very impressive, to say the least. Rarely did these conversations with her prying mother end well, so the encounter didn’t bother her as much as it would if they had a better relationship; Eleanor personally found it to be an energizing way to start her mornings, just like her large cup of hot black coffee, which she usually had perched beside her during these vocal spars.   
  
The young girl spun on her heel, before grabbing the mug and heading off towards the bathroom, her feet paddling across the cold hardwood floor of her apartment. She turned on the dim yellow light, and settled into the enclosed washroom, placing her cup onto the shiny porcelain countertop, and raising her sight to the reflection that stood in front of her.   
  
Her thick, curly, ginger hair was the first thing that caught her attention, instantly noticing the kinks and knots that she would have to roughly drag a comb through. The luscious locks framed her freckled filled skin, a slight tint of red hovered just beneath the dark spots that were splattered across her face, and the contrasting tones highlighted her heterochromatic eyes which were one of the more distinct features that she had developed when she was younger. The iris on the left bared an ice blue colour, almost on the grey side, whilst the right brought a light green base, with specks of brown, it was her more…Exotic side. Eleanor was lucky enough to have a case of heterochromia that wasn’t as extreme as most people’s were,  
sometimes it would even go unnoticed until the person got a closer look at least.  
  
She exited the washroom briefly, retrieving three extra thick hair ties, mauve-coloured scrubs and a fresh set of undergarments, returning to her reflection in under a minute, taking a quick swig of the steaming coffee before starting her morning routine. She removed her baggy white top, folding it neatly over her arm, and placing it on the opposite side of the counter, sliding a pair of red underwear up her legs, letting the waistband slap against the curvature of her ‘childbearing’ hips, her mother’s words…Not her own. She hooked the matching bra on, adjusting the straps slightly so it wouldn’t dig into her skin throughout the day, grabbing her brush moments later to begin the process of fixing her unkempt hair. There was an abundance of knots, but it was nothing compared to the other times where she almost had to resort to cutting some of them out just so she wouldn’t have to force the bristles through them. Once she was done, she gathered the thick curls and tied them into a large, neat looking bun, which was her go-to style that tended to last her entire shift and withstand the harsh  
winds of New Jersey. She hastily changed into her scrubs and made her way out of the washroom, with the dark blue mug in hand, turning off the light behind her.   
  
The sun began to rise, peeking through the thin white curtains that surrounded the entirety of her apartment, illuminating the lounge area she had meticulously arranged for herself. Bookshelves containing medical journals and encyclopedias led to the lonesome oak desk that had papers strewn across the top of it; this was where most of her diligent work had been conducted on her off days. She didn’t own a television, but she owned an Apple iMac G3 in aqua blue, and an iPod, which held her entire discography of music, this usually provided her with much-needed background noise so she wouldn’t feel as lonely as she was. Eleanor wasn’t one to particularly delve into hoarding distractions for herself, therefore she took the route of having a more minimalistic approach to her living situation; no roommates, no pets, just the basic essentials of life. Her friendships were limited, but that was not by choice, sometimes she longed to be as confident as she was when she was speaking to patients or concerned family members, yet the introvert that reigned deep inside of her had different plans for the potential social life that could’ve been. It wasn’t only the shyness that held her back though, there were plenty of problems that revolved around Eleanor Kade's head that were never resolved, and from there came the trust issues, but she never exposed that to anyone of course.   
  
Quickly, she gathered her small, spiral-bound memo pad, placing it into her pant pocket, with a pen tucked neatly beside it, hoping that she would be able to make use of it throughout the day, especially if she discovered an interesting chart. Moving fluidly towards the kitchen, she retrieved her leftover grilled chicken and rice that she had made for lunch the day before, wrapping the container in a plastic bag before finding her neutral grey backpack and strategically fitting it into the large middle compartment, zipping it up, returning to her desk to grab her iPod and earbuds, not having any desire to roller skate in complete silence while making her way to work. She took one last look around, going through a mental checklist under her breath, wrapping her thin black windbreaker around her body. There was nothing else she needed, so she laced up her skates, collected her shoes and left her apartment without another thought.

* * *

  
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was a much larger, and more intimidating building than the last one Eleanor had worked at, to her it looked to be a daunting task to handle knowing that she would have to learn where everything was on the go. She had taken a tour of the place only once when she got her interview but thought that she wouldn’t get the job since the Dean of Medicine, Lisa Cuddy, seemed to be distracted throughout the duration of their meeting. It was a surprise when Eleanor received the call, and she severely regretted the fact that she didn’t pay attention to the locations that were being pointed out to her. The young nurse worried to herself as she untied the laces of her all-black roller skates, replacing them with her dark blue and pink non-slip sport sneakers, a cool gust of wind blowing by, taking waves of leaves in its trail, the sound of them dragging across the concrete resonating in her mind for a few moments. She inhaled the fresh air until her throat burned and her chest tightened, exhaling loudly before standing up from the stone slab, collecting her backpack and skating bag, entering the main lobby of the hospital.  
  
It wasn’t as loud as she expected it to be, but from what she was seeing the hospital was still pretty full. Her eyes glanced down at her watch, noticing that she was twenty minutes early, providing her enough time to find the nurse's locker room, and get settled in before her shift started. Hopefully, her intuition would kick in by that point and she would be able to weave herself into the area that she would be assigned to. Eleanor specifically remembered Dr. Cuddy saying that she would probably start at the Clinic, then work her way up into patient rooms, which to her sounded easy enough, she had worked in a clinic for three years, so if this was the case it would be smooth sailing for her. She looked around the lobby, reading the directory signs, as she walked towards the elevator. It seemed like the main floor was the one that would be her stomping ground for the time being, except for the fact that the nurse's lockers were located on the fourth floor according to the sign posted up near the stairs, at least she would have the excuse to explore.   
  
The metal doors slid open, and a group of doctors filed out, talking loudly amongst themselves, some of them complaining, while the other ones judged silently, glancing up from their files to prevent themselves from slamming shoulders with anyone. She averted her gaze, an intense feeling of inferiority washing over her in an instant, as she moved into the enclosed space, pressing the button for the fourth floor, watching it light up. The lobby disappeared from her sight, a blurred reflection of herself catching her eye for a few moments until a distant ‘ding’ rang through the elevator, revealing the front desk which was crowded with nurses and doctors intermingling with each other. Eleanor stepped out of the empty confines, holding the strap of her bag tightly as she followed the signs that led to the locker room. She tapped her keycard on the scanner, and pushed the door open, hearing some of the nurses chatting about a patient they had been taking care of throughout the night, who had burst his stitches and bled everywhere, one of them mentioned that it was enough to cause her to almost slip and fall. Eleanor fought off the urge to comment, and walked towards an empty locker, placing her backpack, roller skate bag, and windbreaker into it, pulling out her lock and clipping it into place before writing down her number on her hand in blue ink so she wouldn’t forget where it was located. She hung her stethoscope around her neck, the cold material causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh.  
  
“Then Dr. Richards came in…And my goodness I thought I was going to faint.” One of the nurses squealed, both of them giggling, the high pitch echoing through the hollow walls of the locker room as Eleanor made a mad dash to the exit, noticing that she had ten minutes to get down to her station, if she had time she would’ve preferred to stay and listen to the rest of the story. She slipped out of the room without being detected, making her way towards the elevator, watching several nurses walk by, exchanging small nods with her, greeting her silently. Some of them couldn’t help but look at her eyes and stare, but she was used to it, they mostly stared because they couldn’t figure out whether they were seeing things or not. She pressed the down button, standing back to create some space for the impending group of doctors to come flooding out of the sliding doors. Once her body met the light brown wall where the directory was located, she crossed her arms and began to wait, taking slight glances at the bustling environment around her.   
  
Through the crowded areas of the hallway, one distinct person came into her sight, proceeding down towards the elevators. He harboured a cane, and a distinct limp on his right side, whenever he took a stride he tended to put more weight into the step he took with the presumably damaged leg, which sparked her curiosity in an instant. She couldn’t tell if he was a doctor or a patient, but judging by the way he dressed she assumed that it was the latter of the two options. He looked unkempt like he hadn’t put in an effort to get ready this morning, and as his figure got closer she took in the staggering height difference they shared which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to her. The man stood in front of the doors without a care in the world, holding his cane tightly in his right hand, while Eleanor studied him from behind. She saw him turn his head slightly, and followed his gaze, her eyes settling on Dr. Cuddy, who had just exited the Carnegie wing, her thin heels tapping against the floor quickly when she noticed the man staring at her. Eleanor’s sight settled back onto the mysterious figure, watching him press the down button a few more times as if the elevator would come faster and save him from the intimidating woman, but luck wasn’t on his side.  
  
“I was expecting you in my office twenty minutes ago.” She started, the tone of her voice was stern, and was weighed down with professionalism, stopping beside him with her head tilted up so she could get a good look at him. Eleanor was surprised that her assumptions were wrong, but now her curiosity was even greater knowing that he was an employee of this hospital. The man turned a little bit, acknowledging her presence.  
  
“Really? Well, that’s odd ‘cause I had no intention of being in your office twenty minutes ago.” He replied, tilting his head to look up at the numbers above the elevator doors, Eleanor’s actions mirroring his. Dr. Cuddy’s eyebrows raised at him, placing her hand on her hip, her eyes glued onto him.  
  
“You think we have nothing to talk about?”  
  
“No…Just can’t think of anything that I’d be interested in.” It looked to be a serious conversation from where Eleanor was standing, and she couldn’t help but eavesdrop into it, absorbing the information that was slowly seeping out of their miniature argument.  
  
“I sign your paychecks.”  
  
“I have tenure.” He replied as the elevator doors slid open. Eleanor contemplated waiting for the next one but realized that it had taken a while, which meant that she would have to wait for another round until the other lift came. She wanted to be at least be five minutes early so she could sign in and get an update on where she would be, so she made the decision to take this one. The man walked in first, turning slightly to look at Dr. Cuddy.  
  
“Are you going to grab my cane now? Stop me from leaving?” He asked, almost like he was taunting her in a way. His blue eyes were vibrant, and the stare that he gave her was almost like he wasn’t taking her seriously, especially from the question he had given her as well.  
  
“That would be juvenile.” She shot back, as Eleanor slipped by the both of them, shoving herself into the corner of the lift, watching the man step on first, his head tilted down, as Dr. Cuddy followed, acknowledging her presence, but not saying anything, taking up the vacant spot beside him. He let out a huff of air, disappointed to see that she had got in with him.  
They waited for the doors to close to continue.  
  
“I could still fire you if you’re not doing your job.”   
  
“I’m here from nine to five.” He informed her, leaning on his cane slightly.  
  
“Your Billings are practically non-existent.”  
  
“Rough year.” He looked down at her.  
  
“You ignore requests for consults.”   
  
“I call back, sometimes I misdial.”   
  
“You’re six years behind in your obligations to the clinic.” Six years was a long time, especially in clinic hours. Of all things, this man didn’t even want to participate in the mundane task of diagnosing the common cold and prescribing medicine for an overly worried patient, how could he even keep his job if he wasn’t even able to do that? She thought.  
  
“See. I was right, this doesn’t interest me.”   
  
“Six years, times three weeks; you owe me better than four months.” She shot back.  
  
“Well, I’m going home.” He responded, a bout of silence entering the space surrounding the three of them. Eleanor could’ve cut the tension with a knife.  
  
“To what?” Dr. Cuddy asked, a smirk plastered on her face, as the doors slid open.  
  
“Nice…” The man mumbled. The three of them stormed out of the enclosure, one after the other, the young nurse's eyes were plastered on the limping figure at the head of the line. 

“Look…Dr. House, the only reason I don’t fire you is because your reputation is still worth something to this hospital.” She commented, Dr. House…A familiar name, but she was not acquainted with him. The man turned on his heel, stopping to look at Dr. Cuddy, while Eleanor took up a spot at the check-in centre, continuing to listen to them.   
  
“Excellent, then we have a point of agreement, you’re not going to fire me.”   
  
“Your reputation won’t last if you don’t do your job.” He sighed loudly, glancing over Dr. Cuddy’s shoulder, squinting at the girl who had stayed attuned to the conversation, his eyes returning to his boss as she continued “The clinic is part of your job, and I want you to do your job!”   
  
“Well…Like the philosopher Jagger once said ‘You can’t always get what you want’ Cuddy.” She rolled her eyes at the comment, and shook her head, giving up on the interaction by turning around and leaving him at the front desk, an accomplished smile plastered on his face, limping away, so he was on the adjacent side to Eleanor’s. She looked down and sighed.  
  
“Hey there, I’m just here to check-in, I’m new…I’m pretty sure Dr. Cuddy wants me working in the clinic.” She explained, watching the older nurse do a double-take, and advert her gaze, her glasses hanging off the bridge of her nose.  
  
“What’s your name?”   
  
“Eleanor Kade.” She responded, her eyes trailing over to Dr. House, who was staring at her. When they had made eye contact he hadn’t taken his sight off hers, which would be the normal thing to do when somebody catches you looking at them. She drew her attention back to the elderly woman.  
  
“You’ll actually be up on the fourth level, checking vitals, doing charts and reporting it back to the front desk up there.” The woman stood up from her seat, picking up a pile of files, handing them to her, “The room numbers and floors are all written on the side of each of them so you’ll know where to go.” She added.  
  
“Are you sure they want me up there?” Eleanor asked. She was shocked that they were even allowing her to not be part of the clinic area, especially because she was new and they didn’t know her work ethic. Her resume was pure perfection though, and unbeknownst to her, Dr. Cuddy had eaten it up when she saw it, who could resist a nurse who finished at the top of her class and showed distinct knowledge in a plethora of medical areas and subject matter. The elderly nurse opened up the first file and pointed at the bright yellow sticky note that laid on the blue page. _Good luck on your first day, hopefully, you’ll be able to handle it. - Cuddy._  
  
“I’m very sure they do.” The nurse responded, settling back down into her seat. Eleanor didn’t push any further, and nodded, flipping the page over to look at the notes and vitals that had been taken on the first patient. _Inflammation, swelling of the glands, nasal blockage, extreme fatigue and bright red rashes, CT Scan, MRI, and X-Rays are ne-_. A shadow casted over the papers, causing her to stop reading the charted notes that the nurse before her had written. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing Dr. House towering over her, his eyes squinted on the file she was holding. He didn’t say anything, and his stare made her shift slightly so she was facing him fully, with her back against the desk.  
  
“Can I help you?” She asked, taking a quick glance down to the bullet notes that were presumably written on the go.  
  
“Was it Horner’s Syndrome, or Neurofibromatosis that caused your Heterochromia?” The question that she had asked was replaced with his own, making her close the file and return her attention to him, raising her eyebrows slightly.  
  
“It was neither.” She responded, a look of surprise appearing on his face, rarely would it ever be something other than those two, he thought.  
  
“Incontinentia pigmenti? Inflammation of the iris?” He pressed further, causing her to scramble for a lie, not wanting to admit how she truly got it to a complete stranger.  
  
“Actually…It was a soccer ball straight to the face.” _The harsh impact was a white lie of the truth at least_.  
  
“Must’ve been a hard kick.”  
  
“It was.” She replied quickly, trying to focus on the file once again, attempting to show him that she was busy.   
  
“I’m going to assume you’re new here.”  
  
“Wow, for the first time in this conversation your assumptions have been correct.”   
  
“Ah…What’s my prize?”   
  
“Unfortunately nothing, we aren’t playing a game.” She answered, his hand coming into view to turn the paper over, revealing the sticky note Cuddy had written to her, “Hey!” She exclaimed.  
  
“Good luck on your first day, hopefully, you’ll be able to handle it.” He mimicked, reading the message aloud, “I didn’t get this when it was my first day, I’m very disappointed.” He joked in a monotoned voice, flipping the page back over revealing the chart she had been looking at moments before, “Although…You must’ve made quite the impression if she’s putting you on MY floor.” He commented. She let out a loud sigh, realizing that he had heard the conversation between her and the elderly nurse, that was karma telling her to mind her own business next time.  
  
“I don’t know whether or not to assume if it was a good impression or a bad one, especially if she’s deciding to put me on a level with the person she has it out for.”   
  
“And I don’t know if I should take offence to that comment.” He replied.  
  
“Judging by the way she was talking to you in the elevator it sure as hell seems like you’re not on her good side.”   
  
“Cuddy does that intentionally to throw new nurses off her scent, so they believe that she hates me when in actuality she harbours an abundance of sexual fantasies about me.” Eleanor coughed a bit, covering up the nervous laughter that was itching to escape her mouth, shocked by how obscure his sense of humour was “Don’t worry though, I’m sure you and her will get close enough that she’ll eventually admit it to you...When she does though you have to promise to tell me.” He added, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his pill bottle, unscrewing the childproof cap and shaking two of the white rounded off tablets out into his cupped palm, throwing them into his mouth and dry swallowing them.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to...” She paused for a moment, biting the inner part of her cheek, trying to hinder the question that was brewing in the back of her throat, begging to get out of her. The man was the first person to actually have a conversation with her, there was no way she was going to ruin all the process she had made by commenting on the pills he had taken right in front of her. Maybe he wanted her to ask though, maybe he had seen her resume and wanted to test her observational skills. For lack of trying though, she couldn’t hold it back, giving in to her racing mind.  
  
“Is the Vicodin for the pain in your leg, or do you have a severe reliance on it and take them whenever you’re feeling like it?” He gulped, but it wasn’t out of any nervousness, it was more because he thought one of the pills had gotten stuck in his throat.  
  
“They’re actually delicious, you should try them sometime...Better question though, how did you know it was Vicodin when you didn’t even see what was written on the pill bottle? Did Cuddy tell you about my ‘oh so worrisome’ reliance?” She closed the top file, holding the thick pile of them to her chest, cranking her neck to get a good look at him, his silvery-blue eyes scamming her face as she did so.  
  
“She didn’t warn me, there was nothing to know. You’ve got a pretty bad leg injury, I can tell just by watching you walk, so you take the Vicodin. Usually people who want to manage pain take them when they’re truly feeling it, for you though...It seems like you take them whenever you want, which means you’re reliant.”   
  
“I didn’t ask you to diagnose me, Eleanor, I asked you how you knew that I was taking Vicodin if the outside of the bottle was covered, you’re a nurse, not a pharmacist.” She was taken aback by hearing him call her by her name but realized that her name tag was hanging off the pocket of her scrubs, which brought down her nerves significantly.   
  
“They looked visually familiar to me, it was a guess.”   
  
“A very accurate one, but as I said before, you’re a nurse, not a pharmacist, it doesn’t explain how you would know just by looking at a white unknown pill.”   
  
“Why do you want to know so badly?” She asked.  
  
“Because I’m curious, and curiosity triumphs all the other answers I could give you, so spill the beans.” She glanced down at her watch.  
  
“Oh no! Look at the time! I’m running really late, better get to work, and you should go home to whatever it is you’re going home to!” She exclaims, he puts his arm out to stop her, taking the top file from her pile.  
  
“Give me one more second.” He flipped open to the second page, his eyes going over the chart “With the symptoms that are shown in this chart, what do you think she has?” He looked up from the paper, watching the young girl return to her original spot, leaning on the desk.  
  
“Why do yo-“  
  
“Just tell me what you think the diagnosis is.” He interjected, cutting straight to the point. She took her eyes off of him, looking at the file, then back up to Dr. House, who was awaiting an answer, his good foot tapping on the floor.   
  
“The last nurse wrote that she needed a CT Scan, an MRI and X-Rays…But she has rashes, extreme fatigue, inflammation, swollen glands; those side effects lean towards either Mononucleosis or possibly Acute Sinusitis.” Her mind wandered, but those were the only diagnosis’s that she could think of that would fit the bill to the notes that were provided. He closed the file and held it out to her.  
  
“Out of those two, which one do you think she has?” He pressed.  
  
“…Acute Sinusitis…” She replied, watching a faint smirk draw up on his lips.  
  
“Seems like you got into the wrong profession.” He commented, watching her swipe the chart from his hands, “Room 4191 is where you should be…Come visit sometime.” She held the pile against her chest, as he turned around and left the conversation before Eleanor could say anything else, limping out of the building and leaving her sight quickly. With her free hand she slipped her memo pad out of her pocket, writing down the room number he had said, underlining it several times before heading off towards the elevator.

* * *

When she arrived the next morning, she had dropped everything off at her locker, and stopped at the Clinic to check in with Janice, the same elderly nurse who she had spoken to the day before. She was surprised to see that Eleanor was so energized to be charting and checking vitals for the same patients she had yesterday, but right as she was going to say something the loud, booming voice of House exploded through the hallways.  
  
“I’M ANGRY! YOU’RE RISKING A PATIENTS LIFE!” He exclaimed, both the nurses exchanged concerned glances.  
  
“I think Dr. Cuddy found a way to get to him, guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of him now... ” Janice murmured with pure disappointment, pushing her chair back from the desk to see if people were crowding in front of the office doors to try and get a good listen to the conversation that was occurring behind the confines.  
  
“What happened though?”   
  
“YOU’RE SHOWING ME DISRESPECT. YOU EMBARRASSED ME! AND AS LONG AS I WORK HERE YOU HAVE NO LEGA-“ The yelling halted, giving Janice time to respond to Eleanor’s question.  
  
“She took away his authorization, meaning his privileges for MRI’s, Imaging studies and labs are gone.” _Cuddy really doesn’t mess around_ , she thought, leaning over the desk to get a good look at the four doctors who were waiting for House to exit the office and tell them how the conversation ended. They were huddled in a circle, talking among themselves, with their backs turned to her, so she couldn’t get a good look at their faces.   
  
“She did all of this to get him to do his clinic hours hmm?” Janice smirked.  
  
“Of course. Six years of avoiding work has come back to bite him in the ass…Oh yeah, he was also asking about you, said that he had to talk to you about something.” Eleanor rubbed her eyes roughly, an exasperated sigh leaving her throat.  
  
“What about?”   
  
“Didn’t tell me, he just told me to pass off the message when you came in.” She gave her a little nod, focusing back to the doors of Cuddy’s office.   
  
“Might as well join the group and wait for him then, I’ll see you later Janice.” The elderly nurse smiled, giving her a small wave, before picking up the phone that was ringing off the hook.  
  
She gathered her files, and headed towards the clinic doors, standing near the clear windows so he would see her once he left Cuddy’s office. She didn’t want to wait with the initial group, thinking that they would throw a pile of questions at her, in which she wouldn’t be able to answer without stuttering. Larger crowds were intimidating to engage with, another weakness of hers, so she waited until he limped out towards the doctors, saying something to make them leave the clinic, three of them walking past her, leaving only one, who stood beside him, listening to the older doctor as he spoke. House’s eyes roamed the level, before settling on Eleanor. He motioned to her, causing the other doctor to glance over his shoulder to look at her as well.  
  
The man looked significantly younger than House but older than her, there seemed to be a professionalism that radiated off of him. His brows furrowed slightly in confusion, as he said something, still looking at Eleanor while doing so, they exchanged a few words before making their way towards the girl, opening up the clinic doors.  
  
“Just the person I wanted to see! Wilson, show her up to my office, I’ll meet you two there!” She looked over to the younger man, then back to House, who walked by her, not wanting to hear her objections.  
  
“But I’ve got patients to take care of! I can’t!” He stopped in his tracks, making his way back over to the girl, taking the entire pile of files from her arms.  
  
“They can wait! This is important.” He stated, placing them onto the centre desk.  
  
“House it’s alright, she’s got other work to do, I’m pretty sure it’s okay if we wait.” The man, Wilson, interjected, his voice calm, and reasonably stern, although there was a hint of submissiveness as if his friend had a lot more power over him for some unknown reason.  
  
“Listen…I just finished talking to Cuddy so I could get back my authorization in this place, I did it because your own cousin needed to have her brain scanned. Now. Don’t defend the genius nurse, and do as I say. She can check in on her patients after we talk.” He responded, glancing over at Eleanor, before limping away quickly. A frustrated sigh escaped the young man's lips, as he pushed his short brown hair away from his forehead, his eyes settling on the girl, who was shooting daggers at Houses back, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach.  
Her thoughts began to race, realizing that if she wasn’t present to take care of her patients she might get in trouble, that was the last thing she wanted.  
  
“Is he always like this?” Wilson nodded.  
  
“Pretty much. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to get used to it."

“Why though, I don’t have to deal with him.” She commented, looking over at him, his brown irises studying her as he spoke.  
  
“He told me that you were able to successfully diagnose a patient just by looking at their chart…Even a well-experienced nurse can’t do that.” She was surprised that her quick diagnosis was correct, she expecting to be wrong, but relished in the fact that somehow she was right, “It’s pretty impressive to be honest…But no matter how impressive your skills are, if the meeting is going to get in the way of your tasks for the day I’ll talk to him and tell him you’ll visit his office during your lunch break.” He added, she shook her head.  
  
“It’s fine…I might as well meet with him now to get it over with.” She replied, walking past Wilson, who trailed closely behind her, the elevator doors opening up almost as if it knew she was going to need it. They both got in, waiting for a few more people to file into the enclosed space before she pressed the button for the fourth floor, assuming that was where his office was located. She could’ve sworn she had seen his name written on one of the doors, but couldn’t recall which one it was plastered on.  
  
“I didn’t quite catch your name by the way.” He mentioned, bringing her attention back to him.  
  
“It’s Eleanor.”  
  
“Eleanor…That's a very nice name, hopefully, I don't wear it out.” She cracked a smirk, glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye, he seems like a very genuine person, and kind of sweet as well. The doors slid open, signalling for them to escape the boxed in enclosure, entering the busy hallways of the fourth floor.  
  
“Do you have any idea what the meeting is going to be about?”  
  
“He only mentioned that he thinks you’re in the wrong field and that you should possibly look into being part of his team,” Wilson informed, his hands slipping into the pockets of his lab coat. She made a harsh stop, causing him to do the same.  
  
“He has a team?!” She exclaimed, “How could he have a team if he’s so…Callous?”   
  
“Same reason why I’ve been his friend for so long…They’ve learned to tolerate him.” He replied, continuing to walk, “They’re also very experienced in their fields; Chase is an intensive care specialist, Cameron's an immunologist, and Foreman’s a neurologist, it’s a diagnostic dream team.” She continued to follow his quick strides.  
  
“Then why the hell does he need me?”  
  
“Because if he has another diagnostician that dream team will be a holy grail.” He commented.  
  
“I’m not a diagnostician though, and I don’t have the qualifications to be one either. I took a random guess with that patient he asked me to diagnose, it wasn’t rooted in anything but assumptions." Wilson stopped harshly, causing his shoes to squeak loudly, realizing that they were close to the meeting room, not having the desire to end the conversation prematurely.   
  
“Say it was rooted in 'assumptions'…You had to know these viruses and diseases, you had to narrow it down to those specific two, and it could’ve been anything, but you chose to bring it down to those, and you even chose the correct one from those two options as well. In addition to that, every diagnosis is usually rooting in an assumption, you’re assuming what the patient might have, and either you get it right or wrong, and if that’s the case you try a different test or a different approach until you get the right one…You also knew that he was swallowing Vicodin, just by looking at the pills, which is very very impressive.” She looked up at him, noticing the slight glimmer in his eyes, knowing that his words must’ve gotten to her. The contradiction to her point was valid enough to make her rethink what she had said, but she still had doubts about how well she would be able to keep up with the rest of the team, especially if she was going to be joining the ‘dream team.’ “And I also don’t think House is making a mistake by doing this, so that should give you some sort of comfort.” He added, cracking a smile.  
  
“Do you usually think he’s making a mistake?” She asked, trying to figure out the dynamics of their friendship.  
  
“Not all the time, but I’ve had my moments with him.” He responded. There was something about the way he spoke to her that brought a feeling of calmness, he didn’t have the inflection of being above her, even though there was a high chance that he was, and he wasn’t trying to force her to join this ‘dream team’ either, he made it out to be like he was sharing his own point of view of the situation, with no aggression behind his words. He seemed like he was incapable of being aggressive anyways, which made her want to get to know him more, and deep down she was hoping this wouldn’t be the last encounter that they would have. “Anyways…You better get into that meeting with him, he’s not someone that enjoys waiting on people, the room number is 4191.” _Now the number that he gave her made sense._   
  
“Thanks, Wilson.”   
  
“No need to thank me. I’ll be down the hall in my office if he gives you a hard time.” He informed, turning on his heel and making his way down the hall, exiting the conversation quickly. 


	2. Everybody Lies (Part Two)

Eleanor stood at the glass door for a moment, glancing in at House, who was leaning back in his swivel chair, throwing a red and grey ball up above him, catching it just before it came into his sight. She gave him a warning knock before entering his sanctuary, which was somewhat organized, the complete opposite of what she had assumed his office would look like. He watched her closely, holding the ball in his hand, squeezing it gently with every step she took. Her eyes roamed over the spacious room that looked eerily similar to the lounge area of her apartment, expect he had an old fashioned television set in the corner of the office on a cart as if he was going to roll it around with him. He had an abundance of shelving units to store all of his medical texts, and informative magazines, some of them exact duplicates from her own collection, yet somehow it had seemed like House had way more. She pulled one of the mustard coloured chairs across the floor, settling onto the cold, uncomfortable plastic, her eyes scanning the contents on top of his desk. A line of files were hanging dangerously off the edge of the tabletop, an orange glass pen holder was placed strategically in front of him, and a few other knick-knacks were scattered around, but there was no sign of anything that was truly personal to him. It was evident that he was a lone wolf, and it was purposely displayed through the environment of his office. He leaned back in his seat, his hands intertwining with one another, placing them on his stomach, his eyes inspecting the nurse's tense demeanour. She kept her's off of him, letting the silence reside in the room, the nervousness eating away at her insides, as she waited for him to start speaking. House could’ve analyzed her body language all day, yet there would still be more things that he would have to uncover from her. Nobody had ever presented themselves as an open book, but somehow still withheld an abundance of information, it was a refreshing situation to him.

He spun around on his chair, grabbing a dark blue file from the desk behind him, throwing it down in front of her, a light slapping noise echoing through her ears when it landed on the glass tabletop. She pulled herself forward, reaching her hand out to slide it closer to her, glancing up at House who was observing the slow, cautious movements, watching the nurse flip open the folder, her eyes immediately locking onto the notes.

“Rebecca Adler…” The name was barely audible beneath her breath, as she shifted in her seat. The notes were extensive, they had already begun testing her and treating her for various diagnosis's, the most recent medication that had been administrated to her was prednisone, an anti-inflammatory. She turned over the page, looking at the notes on the brain scan, showing that they had noted lesions, which would mean they were leaning towards vasculitis at that point, due to the steroid treatment they placed her on. The side effects that she was having were all over the place, and pinpointing a correct diagnosis would be complicated, they were also not even completely sure it was vasculitis either, that was one thing that ticked her off a bit.

House watched her flip through the notes, and observations of the scans, going all the way to the patient's medical history, which had little to no information, providing her with nothing to grasp on. Once she was finished looking at all the facts and data that the rest of his team had collected, she closed the file and slid it back towards him, leaning herself against the hard plastic of the chair, her head tilting up. A long sigh escaped her mouth, as she tried to narrow down the options of what Ms. Adler could possibly have. Her lips twitched slightly, mouthing some of the words that came to her mind, there was something wrong with her neurologically, and it had to be something that was able to cause oral aphasia, she ruled out a stroke immediately, assuming that they paid a great deal of attention to the brain scans that they had taken when she checked in. A tumour was a massive option and would explain the countless side effects that were written in her file, but for a twenty-nine-year-old female it would be very rare, several medical journals she had read stated that point-blank as well. 

“So…What do yo-.” She raised her hand and shushed him, refocusing on the mental list she was beginning to make. Her leg had been shaking his desk, creating a rattling noise from the pen holder, which had begun to annoy him, yet somehow it seemed like it was helping her with staying engrossed within her own mind. The process she was taking was intriguing to House, usually, he would be surrounded by his team who were throwing solutions and diagnoses around left right and centre. Eleanor, on the other hand, wanted complete silence, the only sounds she would allow was the rattling and the environmental noise that was bustling around outside of his office doors, apart from that it felt like she didn’t want to hear a single peep from him. It was an admirable approach, to say the least, even though it was filled with a potential of failure due to the opinions within the room being greatly limited. 

“Do you know if the prednisone is working?” She asked, tearing her sight away from the ceiling that she had been focused on for the past couple of minutes, bringing her field of vision down to her-presumed-colleague. House leaned back in his seat.

“Well, Cuddy doesn’t think it’ll work, she wanted to stop the treatment…Chances are she’s in the patient's room right now weaning her off of the steroids.” He threw the ball over to her, watching her flinch, and fumble it a few times until it finally settled in her hands, “But I’m very sure it’s working.” He added. 

“How do you know?” She pressed.

“I haven’t been paged yet.” He retorted, his eyes focusing on the way she fidgeted with the ball, moving it from her left to her right. Her nervousness translated through her actions in many ways, most of the time she tried to hinder herself from displaying the side effects of her anxiousness, but sometimes she slipped up. These small signals didn’t escape from House’s watchful gaze though. 

“So you’re going to wait until something goes wrong then?”

“Do you think something is going to go wrong?”

“It’s a high possibility. You’re doing a Hail Mary with this diagnosis. If she’s doing alright now it might change within seconds, especially if you don’t know exactly what it could be.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Are you afraid of making a mistake, Kade?” She threw the ball back to him harshly, not enjoying the light interrogation.

“I’m not, but if you keep guessing and theorizing, then there’s a huge chance that she’ll die in this place.” He sighed, taking his cane into his hand, standing up and adjusting himself quickly.

“Well then…If you’re so concerned, let's go see how she’s doing.” He placed the ball back onto his desk, grabbing the file, before making his way out of the office, with her following close behind. 

“I have other patients to take care of House, I can’t put this in front of my actual job.” She exclaimed.

“Trust me, I’m sure they won’t notice or care that you’re missing.” His comment harboured truth, they really wouldn’t notice if she was missing or not…Until something bad happened of course and she wasn’t there to take care of it. She pressed the down button on the elevator, “Especially after I convince Cuddy to let you on the diagnostic team.” 

“I already told Wilson that I’m not qualified to be part of this, I’m not an ex-.”

“Cut the crap Kade, I looked at your resume. You finished with a 97.1 percent at Duke University, the highest in your class…Rarely am I impressed by those numbers, but Duke has a 10 percent acceptance rate, and it’s one of the best schools for a nursing degree, so the fact that you even got in is already pretty remarkable. On top of that experience, somehow you have acquired more knowledge than most generic nurses, which I won’t even go into because I personally would rather skip your life story of being a poor lonely soul who found her calling in reading medical journals when other people went out and partied.” She was at a loss for words, _he had a terrifyingly accurate representation of what her life was during her educational years, and it took her completely off guard_. The both of them stepped into the elevator, as House raised his cane, pressing the second-floor button with the end of it, before placing it back down on the sheeted metal, the doors sliding closed.

“Cuddy isn’t going to say yes to this plan anyway, so why try?” 

“Because even if Cuddy says no I’m still going to do it.”

“And what if I say no?” A light ding echoes through the enclosed space, as the doors slide open.

“You might fight it off for a while, say that I’m taking you away from your real job, but I saw how intrigued you were with Adler’s case, you can’t help but get involved in something so mysterious, so at some point, you’ll give in, and realize that I was right…Which I usually am of course.” He remarks, the two of them walking out into the hallway that led to room number 2103, where Rebecca Adler resided.

“The probability of that happening is slim.” 

“For now…” He added, making an abrupt stop, holding his free arm out to halt her steps as well, the both of them noticing that Cuddy was already in the room speaking to Rebecca. Eleanor couldn’t get a good look at her due to the obtrusive lines that the curtains caused, the only thing she could see was a mass of long, dark brown hair, that seemed to frame her pale skin. She could hear Cuddy warn her to not eat too quickly; that means the steroids were indeed working, especially when she was pretty much on the brink of death before this due to her allergic reaction. 

“Well, would you look at that…She’s regained her appetite, and she's actually articulating her words, it looks like the prednisone is working to me.” She rolled her eyes, “Which means I’m right.” He added. Before she could say anything back to him, Cuddy exited the room, closing the door behind her without noticing them, until she fully turned around, flinching at the sight at the both of them.

“Should I discontinue the treatment boss?” House asked, almost as if he was rubbing it in that his assumptions were correct, and his theory of her having vasculitis was proven right. She stepped back slightly to get a good look at him.

“You got lucky.” She commented, her eyes trailing over to Eleanor, “Shouldn’t you be working on the fourth floor right now?” She opened her mouth to respond.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something regarding her,” House interjected, taking the attention off of the young nurse, bringing it back over to him. Cuddy had a few thoughts running through her mind at that moment; it was either he was going to berate her with a slew of questions regarding the reasons as to why she hired her, or he was going to ask if she could be moved off his floor.

“What is it?” 

“I want her to join the diagnostic team.” Neither of her guesses were correct, but this proposal only brought more thoughts into her mind.

“House…She’s a nurse.”

“What an obvious observation Cuddy, thank you for pointing that out to me.” He replied sarcastically, “But unfortunately you didn’t notice that she’s wasting her talents on patients that don’t need her help.” He added, as she glared over at Eleanor, then back to House.

“You’ve got a whole team of specialists.” She pointed out.

“Once again, thank you for stating the obvious, but I need her on the team.” Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why?” A harsh exhale escaped House's mouth.

“For god sake, what’s with all these questions today?! Can’t people just say yes without putting the person through an hour-long interview?” She raised her eyebrows at her employee, waiting for him to explain himself, and to her surprise, without putting up a fuss, he continued: “She’s knowledgable, well rounded and observant; she knew that I was taking Vicodin just by looking at the pills, she didn’t even see the prescription, or what was written on the bottle…Think about how well you have to know your medications to be able to guess what someone is taking only by seeing the shape or the indentations of the tablet. Also, she was able to diagnose a patient with Acute Sinusitis by looking at the side effects that a different nurse wrote, she didn’t go and visit her, she didn’t see the test results, and nor did she take three days trying to figure it out, she did it within minutes. If that’s not enough to convince you to let her on my team, then I don’t know what else I could say.” Cuddy was taken aback by his explanation of the events that had taken place during her first day of working at the hospital. In disbelief she looked over at the nurse, who was tinted a blush pink, embarrassed by being the subject of conversation. 

“Is this true?”

“…Yes,” She confirmed, “But it was just a lucky guess…He’s blowing this thing entirely out of proport-.”

“Two ‘lucky guesses’ that were within mere minutes of each other.” He interrupted, as Cuddy returned her eyes to him, “If you let her join the team for one case and she doesn’t respond well, then I was wrong, and you’ll be able to say I told you so…Won’t that make you happy?” She looked over at Eleanor, letting out a sigh of defeat, realizing that her decision would bring great disappointment to the young nurse before her.

* * *

  
“Wait…She's actually allowing you to join the team?” Wilson asked as they filed through the cafeteria searching for an open seat. Right after the conversation, Cuddy had told her to keep checking on her assigned patients, and if anything happens to Adler she would be paged by House. The plan would still allow her to do her job while balancing the task of being on the diagnostic team, which was an upside. She had tracked Wilson down before she went on her lunch break to update him on what had happened, not having anyone else to talk to about the situation apart from him.

“Just for this case. If I don’t respond well to it then I’m going to go back to my original job.” She followed Wilson to an empty table, both of them having a seat on opposite sides. 

“But you already know you’re going to respond fine to it, which means you’re going to actually be part of the team.” She unwrapped her container of pasta salad, undoing the tightly sealed top.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Well, unless you’re going to sabotage yourself, I’m pretty sure your position on the team is set in stone.” He retorted, taking a gulp of his water, “And anyways…I don’t see what the big deal is, it’s not like you’re losing your job, you’re just exchanging it for one that’s more suited for you in a sense.” She poked around the salad, roughly jabbing the plastic fork into one of the twisted pieces of pasta.

“The job that suits me is being a nurse Wilson, not a self-proclaimed diagnostician.” She commented, taking the food off the fork, savouring the flavour of lemon and thyme notes that slid over her tastebuds. He shrugged, opening up his bag of plain potato chips before picking up half his turkey sandwich he had purchased from the cafeteria.

“I won’t doubt that you love nursing, it must be an amazing job, and I highly admire people who get into the field, but, you're ignoring your true calling, and it seems like everyone else but you sees it.” She bit the inside of her cheek, he had a point, but she was refusing to believe it, her frustration was showing by the way her different coloured irises twitched, not being able to focus on a specific area of the cafeteria. He took a large bite of his sandwich, covering his mouth as he chewed so she wouldn’t see any unwanted sights of food in his mouth.

“I don’t think I’m ignoring it, I’m just being realistic.” He swallowed harshly, his deep brown eyes studying her, squinting faintly, analyzing the body language she was giving off, her walls were definitely up, and they were thick.

“Being realistic would mean you would be willing to give the team a fair shot, which you’re not going to do because you’re going to choose the route of self-sabotage…Chip?” He asked, turning the bag towards her. He was so used to House stealing the entire bag, and leaving him with nothing, that he automatically offered them to whoever he decided to sit with when his friend wasn’t available, it was also kind of supposed to be a peace offering, to show that he wasn’t trying to make her angry. She shook her head, turning them back to him, making his lips drop down into a predominant frown.

“They’re yours…And hey! I didn’t specifically say I would sabotage myself, I just know I won’t be up to par with the rest of the group.” 

“I’ve known House for a while, and I’ve never witnessed him advocate for someone like this before, he’s pretty dead set on having you on the team because he knows that you would be a great addition. If he didn’t think that, he wouldn’t be doing all of this.” He explained, taking another bite of his sandwich, a moment of silence overcoming them, as she shovelled another forkful of pasta into her mouth, chewing on her thoughts. Finally, she gave in.

“Fine…” She murmured, his eyes immediately darting up to the nurse, who had a look of defeat plastered on her face, “But if I disappoint him I’m going to blame you.”

“What?! Why?” He exclaimed.

“Because you convinced me to give it a shot.” She responded, a small smile appearing on her light pink lips, “I’ll take one of those chips now though...If you don’t mind of course.” He sighed, turning the bag back towards her, watching her nimble fingers retrieve one quickly.

“I don’t think I convinced you, I’m pretty sure you just came to your senses.” She rolled her eyes, popping the crispy chip into her mouth, crunching it over and over again until it became mush, swallowing quickly to reply.

“Mmm no, my senses are non-existent, it was definitely your convincing.” Her voice was undeniably flirtatious, but it wasn’t intended to sound like it, although she noticed that his cheeks had immediately turned a misty red, which meant that he had taken it in that manner. He took his eyes off of her, looking back down at his sandwich, the both of them continuing to eat in the silence until their breaks were over.

* * *

  
She stayed past her shift and waited for the rest of House's team to go home for the night, hoping that she would be able to get a good look at Rebecca and check in on how the prednisone was working for her. It seemed simple enough, knowing that most of them presumably ended at relatively the same time. She told Wilson to page her once the coast was clear, just to be extra sure she wouldn’t be seen, not wanting to introduce herself without House being present. During the downtime, she had taken shelter in the locker room, writing down what she remembered from the file House had shown her during the meeting. The notes were to help her keep track of what they already knew, but it was also to help her figure out what else it could possibly be. Vasculitis could’ve been the be-all and end-all of the diagnosis, but the way the brain scans looked, it just didn’t make sense to her, there was more to the patient apart from being Wilson’s cousin and being a kindergarten teacher. The larger factor of all this is that Vasculitis inflames blood vessels, and could result in organ and tissue damage; but the side effect that put her there in the first place was oral aphasia, and that was a very uncommon and highly unlikely occurrence for people who experience a flare-up due to Vasculitis, there was something major that was missing, she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

She tilted her head back, leaning against the metal lockers, taking in the florescent light that beamed down on her, cascading over her skin. Rebecca must’ve been hiding something significant, or withholding an important piece of information, the puzzle pieces just weren’t connecting. Her pager rang, throwing her off her train of thought, making her sight trail down to the screen. _The coast is clear, meet you at the elevator -W._ A sigh escaped her lips, as she got up from her seat, pushing off the cold metal door, slipping the memo pad into her pocket, before making her way out of the locker rooms. 

There was something about being in a hospital at night time that made her feel uneasy, maybe it was because she usually either worked morning shifts or afternoon shifts that ended before the sun went down completely. It felt like a totally different environment, almost as if it wasn’t even a hospital. The hallways weren’t bustling, but there was a steady flow of nurses who were walking around with their charts held tightly against them, although they didn’t seem rushed to be anywhere, unlike the nurses that worked the day shifts. On cue Wilson stepped into her line of sight, pressing the down button when his eyes fell upon her, watching her increase her walking speed so she was right on time when the elevator doors slid open. 

“What have you been doing this entire time?” He started, both of them stepping into the empty lift.

“Writing notes on the Adler case…She’s your cousin right?” She asked, trying to dig deeper into the relationship, hopefully, they were close enough for him to spill some juicy medical information, or medical history that she might’ve lied about. Wilson stiffened slightly, pressing the second-floor button.

“Yeah, she’s my cousin.” He replied bluntly, the tone of his voice lowering, causing Eleanors ears to raise in suspicion. Her observational skills were exquisite in the art of knowing when someone was trying to lie, and this was setting all her alarms off.

“Is she older, or younger than you?” The doors slid closed, as he stuffed his hands into his lab coat.

“Younger, why?” So he was in his thirties, she thought, gaining some unneeded information on him as she began to piece together the web of lies that he was beginning to spin and entangle himself in.

“Do you know if she would be on any religious-based diets?" He turned to her, his eyebrows knitting together, noticing that she avoided his question, “I can tell by the last name that she’s of Jewish descent, but it’s good to know if she’s Kosher or if she’s had a change of heart on that…”

“I wouldn’t know…” He replied, turning away with her, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay, if your family got together for Passover, would she attend?” She asked, continuing to press on the religious side of things, having a feeling that Wilson was going to crack under the pressure.

“I haven’t seen Rachel in a couple of years, I have absolutely no idea if she would participate in a family get together.” Eleanor’s eyes immediately shot up to him, acknowledging his Freudian Slip instantly. She could see him avoid eye contact with her, as the elevator doors opened, watching him escape with her following closely. 

“The only reason you wouldn’t know the answer is because she’s not your cousin.” He stopped abruptly, spinning on his heel, an overly acted look of hurt dancing across his face like he was offended that she was making such wild accusations. The young nurse took a few steps forward, so she was closer to him, not wanting to air the lie out to everyone around her, “If you actually cared about your ‘cousin’ I’m pretty sure you would know her actual name…Which is Rebecca, not Rachel by the way.” His milky skin, turned a deep red, the heat of embarrassment rising to his cheeks, exactly the way it was nearing the end of their talk during lunch. 

“I-I know her name’s Rebecca...I just prefer to call her Rachel.” 

“Good Lord Wilson, you’ve already gotten into the god damn casket, stop throwing dirt on yourself. I won’t tell House that you lied, but next time, at least remember the name of the patient, it’ll help you be more convincing.” She commented, making her way towards room 2103, with Wilson following her this time. She slid open the glass door, motioning for him to go in first before joining him, enclosing themselves in the room. The young woman had a bandage on her throat from the emergency tracheotomy the team had to perform on her, and the colour of her skin seemed to be more lively, the pasty glow had gone away, and there were no undertones of greys or yellows either. 

“Just here to do a check-in with you,” Wilson announced, tilting her bed up so she was sitting more in an upright position. The nurse took up a spot in the corner so she wouldn’t get in the way, it also gave her a better field of vision in case she noticed something out of the ordinary. Rebecca watched her closely, as Wilson put his stethoscope on.

“Are you Dr. House?” She asked while leaning forward.

“No, I’m just observing that’s all,” Eleanor responded, watching her take deep breaths, without any struggle, a hint of disappointment plastered on her face, before softening slightly.

“Good.” Wilson murmured, taking the stethoscope off and folding it until it was able to fit into the left pocket of his lab coat. 

“Am I ever going to meet Dr. House?” She pressed, her eyes following the doctor as he moved to the other side of her bed.

“Well, you might run into him at the movies, or on the bus.” A faint, toothy smile appeared on Rebecca’s face, a glimmer of curiosity brewing behind her blue irises.

“Is he a good man?” Eleanor glanced over at Wilson, who was hesitating to answer the question, even though he had known him for years.

“He’s a good Doctor…” The avoidance of the question was obvious to both Eleanor and Rebecca, so she pressed further.

“Can you be one without the other?” Wilson adjusted the monitor, “Don’t you have to care about people?” 

“Uh, caring is a good motivator, he’s found something else though.” He responded, motioning for her to lay back down against the bed, his hands pressing down on the sides of her torso, asking if she was able to feel it, she gave him a nod and a smile, before checking if her hands were able to squeeze his. Everything seemed to be fine, and by the way she was talking she seemed to be on her toes, and alert, which was a relief to Wilson, and Eleanor.

“He’s your friend huh?” The question put them back on the previous subject that he tried to avoid, his eyes glancing up at her as he made his way over to the end of the bed where one of Houses team members had left the chart in its placeholder.

“Yeah.” Eleanor watched him open the file up, bringing his sight down to the notes in front of him.

“Does he care about you?” She watched him hesitate in answering the question as if he wasn’t sure what the right answer would be. 

“I think so.”

“You don’t know?” He looked up from the chart, giving a shrug to the curious woman that was interrogating him.

“As Doctor House likes to say ‘Everybody Lies’.” Like you. Eleanor thought, a smirk appearing on her lips.

“It’s not what people say…It’s what they do.” He paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the young nurse who was already looking his way. 

“Yeah…He cares about me.” He admitted, motioning towards the door to indicate that everything was alright and that they could get going, but something felt off, Eleanor could feel it. She looked over at Rebecca, who looked confused, as if she didn’t know where she was, her head tilted up to the light.

“I can’t see.” She whispered, causing Wilson to stop in his tracks, turning to look back at the patient “I can’t…See.” She repeated another moment of silence struck, right before chaos erupted. Rebecca threw herself back onto her bed, her body immediately tensing up and moving in broken motions, as Wilson and Eleanor kicked into gear. Her heart rate was spiking, only growing higher and higher, right before flatlining.

“Grab the defibrillator! She’s crashing!" 

* * *

  
“Cardiac Arrest, Blindness, and another seizure…It’s definitely not Vasculitis.” The young nurse commented, leaning against the wall of the elevator, exhausted from administering CPR for ten minutes straight while Wilson and a separate team of nurses shocked Rebecca back to life. 

“It could still be a tumour.” He insisted. 

“It’s not a tumour…She didn’t respond to the radiation.” Wilson huffed, his back meeting the opposite side of the elevator, crossing his arms.

“Then what do you think it is?” She shook her head, undoing the tight mass of hair from the constricting bun, letting her thick locks fall back into its natural state, backtracking what she had witnessed. Everything happened so suddenly, she was doing great one minute, then flatlined the next, it just didn’t make coherent sense.

“She was doing fine when we walked in, she was interacting well with both of us…Then there was that quick decline. Something had to have caused it. I just need to look over the chart again.” She extended her hand, motioning for him to hand the file back to her.

“Maybe you should go home and wait until she wakes up tomorrow morning before you start jumping to conclusions.” He warned. She shook her head.

“Hand over the file Wilson.”

“You can’t take it home with you.” 

“I’m not taking it home with me, I’m taking it to the Sleep Lab so I could go over it in peace and quiet.” He raised his eyebrows at her, as the elevator doors opened, the both of them stepping out onto the fourth floor.

“It’s nearing ten o’clock though.” He stated.

“…Thank you for informing me of the time Captain Obvious, but what’s the point you’re trying to make?”

“Well, it’s getting late, and you've been here since…Eight in the morning basically. Shouldn’t you be heading home?” She let out a small laugh, shaking her head.

“No. Now can you give me the file please?” A defeated look reared up on the Oncologist's face, as his eyes studied hers, noticing the glossiness that shimmered beneath the stark lighting. She was tired, yet there was determination burning deep within her to solve the case. The persistence made it obvious that she didn’t want to waste even more time than they already had, they were running on a clock, with no defined end, and she had no idea when the alarm would ring.

“At least get some rest, alright? House isn’t even losing sleep on this case, which means you shouldn’t be either.” He gave her the file with reluctance, her ice-cold fingertips brushing his skin briefly, as the rough texture of the chart left his hands. 

“Why do you think I’m going to be taking it down to the Sleep Lab?” She remarked, a faint smirk appearing on her face. He felt like mentally slapping himself for being a dense, and oblivious being, how could he have not gotten the hint, usually he was on the ball during conversations.

“Good point. Sorry, my brain isn’t working today.” He commented, his embarrassed laughter ringing through her ears, the redness fading onto his cheeks once again. She had seen him blush countless times today, once because of her, and the other times because of himself. To her, he seemed laid back enough to not fret the small things, but it was the more insignificant actions that got him to react in involuntary ways, the blushing was one of those reactions, at least that’s what she thought at least. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully by that time I’ll have some much-needed answers.”

* * *

  
Eleanor’s eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by bags of sand, and her brain seemed to be melting within the cocoon of her skull. The extensive notes she worked hard on throughout the first three hours of her all-nighter had turned into a mind map of figure eights, one after the other, over and over again along the frame of the page. She tried putting her head down for a little bit to rest her drooping eyes, but sleep wouldn’t fall upon her, the possibilities of what her diagnosis could be were running rampant through her mind, and the fear of figuring it out too late was dawning on her. She had a suspicion that the prednisone interacted with whatever she was harbouring and only worsened her illness, which narrowed the search down slightly. Eleanor needed to know more about the patient, and it couldn’t just be from what was written down in her chart, she had to speak to her, and hopefully, Rebecca would be coherent enough to understand what she was asking. For now, though, the only thing she needed was a cup of coffee, and some food, sleep could wait until she got to the comfort of her own home, even though the empty Sleep Room was quite tempting.

She gathered her memo pad, and chart, before taking the stairs up to the cafeteria, hoping that the rushed movements would get her blood pumping. The cafeteria wasn’t as busy as she expected it to be, but at least she would be able to cruise through the line and find a booth for herself. She purchased two prepackaged fruit salads, and two cups of coffee for herself, so she wouldn’t have to get back in line once she was done with the first one, she thought it was more efficient than making two trips. The coffee was burnt, and the heat scorched the sensitive flesh of her lips, leaving a trail of stinging pain on her tongue and down her throat. Once the first sip was down, she opened up one of the fruit salads, using the plastic fork to poke a thick slice of pineapple out from it’s container, raising it to her mouth. The heat from the coffee had burned her tongue, which caused her to only taste an irony flavour, not the citric juices from the fruit that she chewed gently on. 

Her head was tilted down, and her vision was focused on the bowl in front of her. The lack of rest was starting to strain on the young nurse's mind, every little thing that bustled around the environment made her entirety flinch, and it was obvious that she was on edge just by looking at her. The mane of ginger hair was extra fluffy from being tugged on during the night when Eleanor hit the peak of frustration at around three-fifteen, the bags beneath her eyes were sunken in, bearing a dark grey undertone, with hints of purple. It was visually obvious she had a very rough and gruelling night, to say the least, and the sight of her exhaustion didn’t go unnoticed by Wilson and House as they entered the cafeteria. She took another sip of coffee, retrieving half a grape from the container, popping it into her mouth, biting down on a large seed that was hidden deep within the springy flesh. A loud groan escaped her mouth as she took the obstruction out, placing it into a napkin. It definitely went unnoticed during preparation. She thought, grabbing the other half, checking it carefully before ingesting it

The cold handle of House’s cane slipped beneath her chin, drawing her head upwards so he could get a good look at her exhausted features. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, and under the harsh light that stung her eyes, the bags looked twenty times worse than they actually were. 

“You look like an absolute disaster.” He commented, taking a piece of honeydew out of her salad without permission, removing the handle of the cane from beneath her chin, having a seat in front of her as he bit into the chunky mint green rectangle. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, trying to make them water slightly to prevent them from drying out. 

“Thanks, House, glad you noticed.” She murmured sarcastically, her hands dragging down her cheeks.

“I’m going to assume you were up all night trying to solve the Adler case.” She nodded.

“You would be assuming correctly.”

“Hmm…Not even Wilson pulled an all-nighter, and Rebecca is his cousin…But then again Wilson cares about everyone but his immediate family.” He remarked, stealing half a grape from the salad container, popping it into his mouth, some of the juices spluttering out onto the table with each chew, “Did you find anything significant?” She shook her head.

“Nothing that I didn’t know before, her chart is repetitive, and nobody has any specific information about her, other than the fact she’s a kindergarten teacher. We don’t know if she’s a drinker, we don’t know her lifestyle, and we don’t know her diet either.” 

“That’s why I sent Cameron and Foreman to perform an environmental scan on her house.” She tilted her head slightly.

“She gave you permission?” 

“No! Of course not.”

“So you’re…” She paused, looking back and forth before leaning forward “Breaking and entering?” She whispered. He shrugged.

“Everybody lies Kade. Breaking and entering will give us some insight into the things that we don’t know, it might not be morally correct to you, but to me, I find it to be completely fine, and justified.” She took a sip from her coffee cup, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You really have no trust in people hmm?” Once again he shrugged, getting up from his side of the table, collecting his cane, and the chart that was laid out in front of her.

"I’ll page you once the team comes back from the scan.” With that, House was gone and out of her sight, avoiding the question entirely, before being replaced by Wilson. Both of them exchanged quick nods as he took up the space in front of her, placing his cup of coffee down on the tabletop. 

“Two cups of coffee, two fruit salads…Seems like someone pulled an all-nighter.” She let out a sigh.

“I did, and I found absolutely nothing.” She dug into her pocket, and retrieved her memo pad, tossing it onto the table beside her food, flipping it open to the fourth page, her eyes trailing over the notes that she copied down from the charts, “Vasculitis is ruled out completely. The brain scan showed a lesion, and lesions in the brain can form due to infections, toxins, autoimmune diseases, bad diets, tumours…Basically, anything that you could think of. Whatever she has is linked to that in some way though, and with little to no information I can’t pinpoint a diagnosis.” Wilson watched her sit back against the booth, her fork poking around aimlessly in the plastic container, successfully grabbing a chunk of cantaloupe, pausing for a moment, leaning over the memo pad like she was trying to read something she had written and smudged due to the inkiness of the pen, and the genetic gift of having to write with her left hand. 

“When she woke up she wasn’t looking too good, they said she wasn’t able to perform a few simple mental exercises, and then five minutes later she was able to do it without issue her neu-.” He paused abruptly, noticing her eyes widen as if she had a eureka moment pass through her mind “Are you alright?” 

“Cognitive decline, the lesions, Neuropsychiatric disorders, the oral aphasia…” Her brain began to race, but everything was pointing towards one culprit "She’s got a tapeworm.” Wilson’s eyebrows knitted together, confused as to how she drew up this conclusion.

“Those four side effects could be caused by anything though, you can’t automatically assume it’s that.”

“It’s Neurocysticercosis. It explains why the prednisone made her feel better, and then caused such a harsh decline. When you administer steroids to a tapeworm usually the patient improves and then it comes back and gets twenty times worse…The diagnosis checks out.” There was a look of unsureness in Wilson’s eyes, and from what Eleanor could see, it seemed like he didn’t believe her theory still. “Unless you’ve got a better idea…” She added.

“Maybe it’s better to wait for the team to finish their environmental scan, then you can start making conclusions like these.” She leans back in her seat, closing the memo pad.

“You think I’m wrong?”

“No…I just think diagnosing people without any hard facts or information is a bit risky. House diagnosed her with vasculitis, and look at what happened.” He had a point, but there was just something about how everything was coming together, all of the provided side effects were there, and connecting them together was proving to be complicated. Neurocysticercosis, to her, seemed like the one diagnosis that would explain everything, yet for some reason, Wilson was challenging her.

“Wanna put fifty bucks on it?”

“You’re placing a bet on your diagnosis that has a high chance of being wrong?” 

“I mean…If I’m wrong you would be making an easy fifty dollars, the chances are slim though, so hopefully, you’re ready to pay up.”

“You’re that confident in this?” She dug around in the pocket of her scrubs, taking out her wallet, and the fifty dollar bill that resided within it. 

“Confident enough to place my last bill on it.” A smirk appeared on his lips, as both of their pagers went off, interrupting their conversation. _The team is back, Come to 4191 -H._

“Guess I’m about to be fifty dollars heavier.” He commented, his hand engulfing hers, giving it a gentle shake to seal the bet.

* * *

  
Wilson and Eleanor entered the meeting room ten minutes after House had paged the both of them. The team was already in their assigned spots at the long crystal clear table, located directly across a whiteboard which had a list of diagnosis’s scrawled upon it in thick black erasable ink. Off in the corner of the room was a makeshift kitchen, with dishes, a rack, and a coffee maker laid out for communal use, it was like they basically lived in this room. She felt nervous, as three new pairs of eyes settled on her while she made her way towards the glass wall that connected House’s office and the meeting room together, her back pressing against the coldness of it. Her eyes scanned over the three people subtly, trying to hide the fact that she was doing so by taking quick glances. One was dressed in a plaid suit, which went over a patterned button-up that was accessorized with a loose, striped necktie, _he definitely didn’t have a distinct grasp on pattern coordination_. The man looked young, around her age, and from what she could guess he gave off a sense of outgoingness, almost as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His dirty blonde hair was pushed back away from his eyes, and a faint welcoming smile laid on his blush pink lips. He sat between the other two doctors who wore lab coats over their business casual clothes. The woman who sat on the guy's right side was eyeing her closely, but the stare didn’t harbour any hatred or jealousy, the young nurse just seemed to have piqued her curiosity. There was a maturity that seeped out of her, just by the demeanour she was putting out into the environment around her, there was an immense feeling of empathy and gratefulness radiating from her. On the other hand, Eleanor could tell that her presence was making the rest of the team confused as if House hadn’t warned them prior to her arrival. She could feel daggers being shot at her, a defensive and possibly frustrated stare burning into her face, as the last member of the group focused in on her. He didn’t take a particular liking to her, and nor did it seem like he enjoyed the fact that some random person was eavesdropping on the conversation. It didn’t seem natural for them to not be informed when a new figure was going to be joining them in their meetings, _the situation was definitely out of the ordinary_. The group didn’t restart their discussion though and picked up where they had left off before they were interrupted by the Oncologist and their new teammate. 

“You mentioned that you found nothing that would explain the symptoms…What did you find that doesn’t explain these symptoms?” House asked, glancing over at Wilson, then over at Eleanor, trying to gauge the discomfort she was evidently feeling, drawing his attention back to his team. The man who was shooting daggers at the young nurse sat back in his chair, his skin shimmering from the sun that beamed into the room.

“Well…Dr. Wilson convinced you to treat this patient under false pretences.” House’s sight shot over to Wilson, who squealed slightly against the desk that he was now leaning on. Eleanor had been waiting for the moment where someone else had discovered the lie, she knew it would come out sooner or later, of course, especially judging by the fact that the man truly wasn’t a good liar. His cheeks kept their usual tone, which came as a surprise to her “Adler is not his cousin.” He added, looking over at the Oncologist.

“That’s ridiculous, you can ask her yourself, can we…Can we please ge-”

“She’s not Jewish.” The man retorted, interrupting Wilson right before he could ask to get back on track.

“Rachel Adler is not Jewish?” Eleanor could’ve facepalmed right then and there, hearing the Oncologist say the wrong name, yet again. House had noticed the nurse rub her eyes, trying to hinder herself from laughing at the same mistake he made the last time. Her eyes scanned over the other two doctors in the room, instantly seeing that they flagged the slip-up, their brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I had ham at her apartment.” He pointed out, causing a small laugh to escape Wilson’s mouth. _Ham_. Eleanor’s eyes widened at the word, _her diagnosis was right._

“Dr. Foreman, a lot of Jews have non-Jewish relatives, and most of us don’t keep Kosher. I can see getting through high school without learning a thing about Jews, but medical school…” 

“Okay, maybe she’s Jewish, but she’s definitely not your cousin.” The man, _now recognized as Foreman to her_ , replied.

“Really? This guy…He-H-He.” Wilson struggled to form his sentence, making it a dead giveaway that he had been caught, that’s when the redness began to flare up along his cheeks.

“You don’t even know her name! You called her Rachel, her name’s Rebecca!” Foreman exclaimed as the other two doctors raised their eyebrows, their sight focusing in on the creator of the discovered lie. 

“Yes…Yes, her name is Rebecca…” Eleanor stared at Wilson, hoping that he wasn’t going to say what she was thinking, “I call her Rachel.” Her hand immediately slapped against her forehead, the sound echoing through the room, a small hint of laughter following the noise shortly.

“You idiot!” House yelled, just before Foreman could continue the childlike argument that was ensuing before their eyes, Wilson looked over at him, trying to defend himself, “Not you!” House assured, turning back to his group of doctors “Him!” He motioned to Foreman, who was caught off guard, not understanding why he was an idiot.

“You said you didn’t find anything.” He added.

“Everything I found was-“

“You found ham.” At this point, everyone but Eleanor and Wilson had a look of confusion on their faces. The Oncologist began to reach into his lab coat.

“So?” Foreman pressed, still frazzled in the deductions House was making.

“Where there is ham, there is pork. Where there is pork, there is Neurocysticercosis.” A bright smile appeared on the young nurse's face.

“I told you, Wilson! Time to pay up!” She exclaimed, going over to where he stood, watching him open up his leather wallet, and file through a few twenties before locking eyes with the fifty dollars. The group exchanged several looks to each other, and with House, who seemed taken aback by the fact she already had an accurate diagnosis for Adler, without the information that was just given to everybody, she really was talented, and there was no denying it now.

“Who the hell is this girl, and why the hell is she acting like she solved the case when you’re the one that just made the diagnosis yourself?” Foreman asked, watching Wilson hand her the fifty dollar bill.

“That,” House motioned to the nurse, “Is Eleanor Kade. She’s your new teammate.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First episode down! I hope everyone is enjoying this right now, even though we're only two chapters in! Hopefully, everything is reasonably accurate to how the characters would be! See y'all in the next chapter :))


	3. Paternity (Part One)

The cool fall air blew by Eleanor, as she distributed her weight from one roller skate to the other, gliding down the sidewalk that led to the entrance of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was a crisp morning for the young nurse, and due to being cooped up in her apartment for the entire weekend, it was quite refreshing to be outside again. After Rebecca Adler had been released, House didn’t have another case to solve, so she had been placed back on her regular nursing duties; doing charts, checking in on patients, and filing. Although the excitement to get a new intriguing file was beginning to build, she preoccupied herself by focusing on the present situations at hand, not wanting to downgrade her work ethic because she had acquired this position on the diagnostic team. During this three-week break House was stuck in the Clinic catching up on his missed hours that he had built up over the course of six years, so if Eleanor ever had to find him she knew where he was. They usually got into brief quarrels on recent medical journals when they had more downtime on their hands, but other than that, quick check-ins became a daily routine for both of them. 

As for the rest of the diagnostic team, two out of the three doctors; Chase and Cameron to be exact, had tried to welcome the new addition as much as they possibly could. They found it difficult to track her down and get into a long conversation with her due to how busy she was, so they settled on quick greetings and casual how are you’s, but nothing more than that. Foreman, on the other hand, had no interest in getting to know the girl, Eleanor could tell that he didn’t particularly want to be near her or in her presence, and she fully respected the decision. He didn’t seem to take a liking to her, and the intrusion of the group dynamics was something that didn’t sit well with him. What bothered Foreman the most though, was the fact that House went behind their backs and brought her in without even asking. He understood that it was House's team, but a warning would’ve been nice. 

Eleanor stopped at one of the concrete slabs near the entrance and had a seat, untying the black laces of her roller skates, slipping them off with ease, before placing them into the spare blue backpack she stored them in. A gust of wind blew by her, as an array of dried leaves trailed along the brick layered floor, causing a gentle scraping noise to echo through her ears. She took in a deep breath of the cold air, letting it fill her lungs to the brink before exhaling loudly, coughing a bit due to the unexpected frigidness that stung her throat slightly. Her nimble fingers began tying the laces of her sport sneakers, as she glanced around at the trees that surrounded the building, and the thick branches that hung above her head. The atmosphere reminded her of the days her older brother, Issac, took her out for hikes in the forest, it was always in the midst of fall when the leaves would cushion their footsteps and crunch with each movement they made. Sometimes she had longed to go back to the way things were with her family, then she remembered why it became so strained in the first place, and reminded herself that the way everything was now had benefited everyone without any issues. The situation was complicated and messy, and no matter how many times Eleanor went over it in her head, she was never able to move past what had happened. If things were on her own terms she would’ve dissociated from them a long time ago without any question, but putting those thoughts into action never connected for her. It takes a lot of courage to cut ties with people that have wholeheartedly destroyed most of the milestones in your life, and for Eleanor that courageousness never sunk in. 

She got up from the seat, slinging both of the bags over her shoulders, as she made her way through the automatic sliding doors, striding towards the check-in desk to greet Janice, who had a light coating of makeup on her skin. It was out of the ordinary to see her so primped up; even her thick chocolate brown hair was curled and tied neatly in a luscious bun, which was the complete opposite from the usual high ponytails she sported during the chaotic workdays. 

“Morning Janice, you’re looking very fancy today…What’s the occasion?” Eleanor asked, placing her arms onto the desk, crossing them slightly as she watched the elderly nurse glance above her glasses, a small smile rising on her purple-stained lips.

“I’m going to a salsa dancing class tonight, my girlfriends told me that they’re trying to set me up with someone, so they want me to look very feminine for them.” A short laugh escaped the young nurse's mouth.

“Well, you look great, so you’ve got that covered. Hopefully, it’ll go nicely.” Janice shifted slightly in her seat, giving the young girl a shrug.

“It’s been three years since I’ve gone on a date, might be a bit rusty on the whole small talk thing, but I’m sure it’ll be alright though.” She replied, turning around to grab a pile of files from the table, placing them in front of Eleanor, “These need to be filed by the way, the patients have already checked out.” Janice added, patting the stack with the palm of her hand. 

“Guess the last nurse ran off before they were asked to put them away right?” The elderly nurse nodded.

“Oh, you know them so well.” She commented, both of them sharing a brief moment of laughter before Eleanor’s eyes caught a quick-moving Wilson, who had rushed by the desk, not even noticing that he had passed her. He looked spaced out, and from what she could see he was searching for something…Or someone. The Oncologist hadn’t seen the nurse that much during the last couple of weeks, due to the fact she had been stuck making rounds on a different level than him, so catching a rare glimpse of him brought an unexplained excitement to her.

“Wilson!” She exclaimed, garnering his attention immediately, seeing him jolt at the sound of her voice. The way his name rolled off her tongue was eerily similar to how House would say it if he wasn’t paying attention to him or if he was distracted by his own files, only the tone sounded more high pitch and excited like she was actually happy to be seeing him. “You look like a lost puppy over there, are you okay?” She asked, making her way around the check-in desk, as her bags swished against the waterproof material of the jacket she was wearing over her scrubs.

“Y-Yeah I’m okay.” He stumbled over his words, getting caught under the shimmering glare that reflected off her eyes, the colours almost putting him in a trance. When she had gotten closer in proximity the sweet scent of vanilla, honey, and strawberries surrounded him, which was almost as intoxicating as alcohol. It was either she had sprayed on more perfume than usual, or his senses were on high alert, no matter what the circumstance though, Wilson had found himself breathing in deeper just to get another taste, or smell, of the delectable fragrance. She watched his jaw clench tightly, following with a slight shake of his head so he could focus back on the conversation before he embarrassed himself.

“I’m trying to find House, do you have any idea where he is?” She tilted her wrist towards her, glancing at the time, 3:46 pm, he must’ve been doing some clinics to finish his day, or he was trying to avoid the massive influx of patients that were beginning to crowd in the waiting area.

“He’s probably taking shelter in an exam room, I could help you find him if you’d like, I start at four so I’ve got some spare time.” He looked down at the files she held closely against her chest, and the outerwear that’s she was wrapped up in. She was already bombarded with work, he thought.

“You seem to already have a lot of work to do though I th-.”

“Oh no no, it won’t be any trouble! I’ll just pick these back up once we find him, it’s not a big deal.” She interjected, placing the charts down onto the check-in desk, removing her backpacks and jacket as well, before he could object, even though, he would’ve let her join the search regardless. 

“Alright, if you insist.” He replied as the two coworkers made their way towards the clinic, slipping into the overly loud, and drastically packed waiting area. By the sight, she knew that House was indeed slacking off on completing the hours he owed Cuddy, and it was truly showing how much he didn’t care about the patients that only needed a small over the counter prescription. If she was allowed to work in the exam rooms and diagnose people, she would immediately take the opportunity and clear out the entire room within ten minutes, just to bring the chaos down to a minimum, unfortunately for her though, she had to stick to the charts and taking care of the long term patients instead, not that she minded of course. 

From a distance an elderly gentleman coughed loudly into his sleeve, wheezing nearing the end of it, which drew Eleanor’s attention to him instantly, sparking up the temptation that was brewing inside of her. At least one person would be out of the way, and the diagnosis was right there anyway, she thought. It was worth the risk of getting into an insignificant argument with Cuddy, though the chances of that happening were slim to none because that was one of the advantages of being in the Dean of Medicines good books, something that House is rarely in. With one quick swipe, she took Wilson’s stethoscope out of his lab coat, knowing that he usually folded it up and placed it in there after checking up on his patients.

“I’m borrowing this. I’ll be right back.” She informed. He stopped abruptly, watching her hang the instrument around her neck, not allowing him to ask what she was doing because by the time he processed her actions she was already making her way over to the man. Eleanor crouched down in front of him, a friendly smile drawing up on her lips as if she was giving off a comforting signal like she could be trusted. His expression was filled with underlying pain, a slight wince was noted by her when he was trying to force himself to breathe in and return the kind gesture, he probably had the cough for more than a week, she thought. Due to the struggle of taking in a deep breath, and the fact that he was teetering on the older side, there was a high chance that the coughing could’ve also caused a fractured rib as well, which probably wasn’t a particularly pleasant thing to live with. Under her watchful eyes, she came to the conclusion that it must’ve been a serious case of bronchitis, but just to be sure she proceeded with a short array of questions. 

“Is there any yellowish mucus that comes up when you’re coughing like that?” He nodded slowly, cupping his hand over his mouth as if he was shielding her from any bacteria he was possibly giving off to her. She squinted at him, nibbling on the inner side of her cheek in quick mini bites until the taste of iron flooded her tongue, “Is it greyish?” Once again the elderly man nodded. Eleanor watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, similar to when someone had shortness of breath and was trying to get their natural pattern back on track. It had definitely been affecting him quite a bit, and it was evident by how exhausted he looked. 

“How much pain are you in, and where is it coming from?” She asked, inching back so she was able to give him some space to stretch out a bit, noticing that she was unknowingly enclosing herself in his personal bubble. He leaned to his right side, pointing towards the left side of his rib cage.

“It’s when I…I breathe in…Really heavily…Or…Or cough.” His volume was meek, unenergized, and quiet, but that only solidified the fact that he was experiencing quite a bit of pain.

“Any bruising?”

“It’s…” He paused to take in a short breath and cough loudly into his sleeve, a high pitched wheeze stinging her eardrums for a moment before he continued, “It’s discoloured.” A fractured rib, and bronchitis, a combination that goes hand in hand, she thought, stabilizing herself on her heels so she wouldn’t slip and fall on her backside. From over her shoulder, she could see Wilson hovering behind her, keeping a close eye on the interaction, but not being able to hear what she was saying. The young girl turned to him, twitching her head to the side slightly to signal for him to come over like she needed his assistance. Hesitantly he made his way towards them, seeing her small, delicate palm extend out.

“I need a pen and your prescription pad…If you don’t mind of course.” Wilson’s eyebrows raised at the request, yet he found himself digging into his other pocket to retrieve the items she had asked for without putting up an argument. Maybe it was her charm or the way she looked at him with those expecting eyes that always put him under her spell, or maybe it was just him trying to be a people pleaser. He handed her the blue ballpoint pen and the pad, the coldness of her hands brushing against his skin briefly before she turned her attention back to the patient. 

“I’m going to prescribe you Brovana, which is a medication that helps reduce bronchitis flare-ups and prevents it from returning once you’ve taken your antibiotics as well. Take some Advil, or Tylenol if you’re feeling a lot of pain in your rib area, and of course, before you go to bed I would recommend some Mucinex, around 200 to 400 milligrams, that’ll ease the coughing and loosen up some of that mucus.” As she explained the list of medications, her hand was dragging along the paper, filling it with the list she was reciting, only in bullet form. Once she was done, she tore the sheet off from the pad and handed it to the elderly man.

“If things don’t improve over the next couple of days, feel free to come back to the clinic and ask for Eleanor Kade.” He took the thin page out of her hand and gave her a thankful smile, accompanied with a nod, before trudging away from her, and Wilson, who looked somewhat impressed. She hit his arm gently with the back of his prescription pad, garnering his attention immediately.

“Are you sure you're not related to House in any way, cause that took less than six minutes and your diagnosis was really accurate." She let out a small laugh, as he took the pen and pad out of her hands.

“Definitely not related to House. My gut feeling is always right, and the dead giveaway was that wheezing cough. If he didn’t have that I’m pretty sure I would’ve had to use the stethoscope, and look into it a bit further.”

“I thought you took the stethoscope because you wanted him to think you were a Doctor.” 

“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared if I didn’t have one draped over my neck, I think he just wanted that cough to go away and would take any medication that would make that happen.” She commented, removing the stethoscope from around her neck, replicating the way he folded it before handing the instrument over to him. “Now let’s go find House.” She added, leaving him trailing behind her.

* * *

  
When Eleanor and Wilson exhausted all the other rooms and interrupted several other doctors, the last option was at the end of the hall, in a room tucked away from everyone else. Neither of them thought to check there first, a place hidden in plain sight. The young nurse pushed the door open without a warning knock, feeling Wilson’s chest slam into her back, thinking that she was going to just barge into the room. He made a hushed apology, as she poked her head in, letting her sight rest on the man of the hour. He sat upon the exam table, with a lollipop stick hanging out of the corner of his mouth and a Bio magazine perched in his hands. Eleanor would’ve never thought that House would be into something like a celebrity gossip magazine, and was taken by surprise when she saw an intrigued look plastered on his face. 

The opening of the door had caught his attention almost immediately, as he removed the red lollipop from his mouth, waving her in quickly.

“Close the door.” He stated, watching her step in, with Wilson following behind her. Tweedle Dee, and Tweedle Dum, he thought, his eyes observing the both of them clumsily maneuvering around each other, taking up the open space in front of their coworker.

“Is Cuddy down the hall counting to fifty?” Wilson asked sarcastically.

“She knows I’m here in the Clinic, as she commanded, she just doesn’t know I’m alone.” He responded, placing the lollipop back into his mouth, his pale blue irises, glancing over at Eleanor, instantly taking in the strong scent she was giving off, almost taken aback by how powerful it was. Quickly he removed the cherry flavoured sucker, “How much money do you spend on perfume, cause it smells like you drowned yourself in a whole bottle today.” He added, noticing her freckled splattered skin turn a red that was similar to the colour of the lollipop. Before she could reply Wilson intervened, putting the conversation back on track. 

“You’ve got a full waiting room House, how long do you think you can ignore them?” 

“Well I’m off at four, and you’ve got a discount version of me standing right beside you, put her in an exam room and start sending in the patients.” Eleanor glanced down at her watch.

“You’re cooping yourself up in here to avoid five minutes of work…Talk about laziness.” She retorted.

“Oh come on, if I go out there and I get assigned a kid with a runny nose that’s thirty seconds looking at that nose, and twenty-five minutes talking to a worried mom who won’t leave until she’s sure it’s not some form of meningitis or so-.”

“Yes, concerned parents can be so annoying…” Wilson shot back, as they watched House put down the Bio magazine and retrieve his pill bottle, shaking a few tablets out into his palm, “Just tell Cuddy you have an urgent case and you have to leave early.” 

“That would be lying,” House replied, placing his cupped hand against his mouth, quenching his addiction in an instant. 

“And that would be wrong, but luckily the definition of urgent is fungible.” Wilson shot back.

“Not the definition of case though.” House pointed out, placing the bottle back into his pocket, sparking a glimmer of confusion in his friend's face, as he looked over at Eleanor who stood silently, watching the diagnostician lift up the magazine yet again, sitting back in the comfy leather of the exam table.

“You guys have no cases?” He asked, garnering no answer from the question, “You guys have no cases.” He repeated, only this time it was slower, and more of a statement, catching House’s brief glance, “You’ve got hand-picked Doctors, specialists, and another diagnostician working for you…And they’re sitting on their hands?” 

“Cameron is answering my mail.” 

“And I’m working up on the second level doing charts and taking care of patients,” Eleanor added.

“What about Foreman and Chase?” Wilson asked, causing House to look over at the young girl, the both of them exchanging a questionable look like he thought she would be keeping track of where his team was. 

“Research? Work? Something to pass the time…Speaking of which.” He turned his watch towards him, “It’s 4:01, and I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He added, a smirk coming up on his lips, before getting up from the exam table, throwing the magazine down onto the countertop, and limping past the both of them. The Oncologist and nurse exchanged annoyed glances, following the diagnostician out into the hallways of the clinic.

“Don’t you two have something else to do other than harass me?” House asked, glaring over his shoulder at the both of them, hearing one of their pagers go off, and seeing them check their designated ones.

“Well you’ll have one less harasser to deal with, I’ve got a patient waiting for me in my office.” Wilson announced, adjusting his lab coat, “Come find me when you go on break, we can get some food at the caf, and catch up a bit” He added, pointing to Eleanor, who turned a light red, feeling House’s glare burning into the side of her face, confused at the sudden offer Wilson had given her. 

“Yeah sure, I’ll get Janice to page you.” She replied, her eyes taking a quick peek over at House who squinted at the both of them, his suspicions growing, as he watched them exchange the briefest of smiles before Wilson rushed out of the clinic.

“Y’know…Young, youthful nurses make great affair partners.” Eleanor could feel herself choke on air when he said affair. It was a word that made her sick to her stomach every time it was uttered, under any circumstance or context, but she couldn’t put two and two together as to why he would say a ‘fun fact’ like that.

“Is that something you read from a cosmo magazine?” 

“No, that’s something I read from Dr. James Wilson’s guide to having workplace affairs.” He commented.

“Can two friends not have lunch together anymore?” 

“Not saying they can’t, but when these two people are unknowingly flirting with each other, it makes it pretty obvious that they’re not just friends,” House responded.

“We’re not flirting, I don’t know what the heck you’re paying attention to.” 

“Okay, fine, maybe you guys aren’t flirting, but that friendship thing that you two are trying to have isn’t going to last.” 

“Who says it can’t?!” House releases a hit of laughter that rings through her ears with a light echo.

“Every source of media; movies, books, TV Shows…” The reply causes the nurse to roll her eyes.

“I think those soap operas you’ve been watching are plaguing your mind.” He shakes his head.

“Name me one movie where the female or male protagonist DOESN’T fall for their friend of the opposite sex.” She pauses for a moment, leaning against the checkout desk, as House glanced at his watch “4:06 pm, Dr. House checks out, please write that down.” He informs the nurse, turning his attention back to Eleanor, who had her hand perched beneath her chin, in a focused stare, like she was searching through the filing cabinets of her mind for an answer. “Beep! Time’s up. You can’t find one cause it doesn’t exist!” He adds, leaning down so he was at eye level with the short-statured girl.

“It doesn’t matter though, we’re not in some sort of movie! We’re in reality!” 

“And Wilson is on his third marriage! What’s your point?” She was about to reply, but was interrupted by a man that looked to be in his late forties, to early fifties. His hair was salt and pepper coloured, and curled, his skin tone shimmering an off tan. 

“Dr. House?” The diagnostician tore his sight away from the nurse, bringing his attention towards him.

“Sorry! Done for the day. Plenty of doctors here to take care of you.” 

“We have an appointment.” The man replied, his eyes taking a quick glance to Eleanor, who was barely visible behind House’s tall stature.

“Ha…Nice try, but this is a walk-in clinic, which means there are no appointments. You walk in, sign a chart, and a doctor will see you, just not me.” He began to limp towards the exit, trying to make a quick escape from the interaction, but the man moved with him, now joined by a female, presumably his wife, who handed him a folded up piece of paper.

“Your letter says that we’d see you.” He explains, unfolding the sheet, as House turned around, intrigued by their attempts.

“I’m not that big of a letter writer.” He replies, taking the note out of his hands. Eleanor watched his face contort in confusion like he was trying to remember when he wrote it, then it seemed like he had put two and two together, his hands folding the piece of paper up again, “I’ll be right back, one of the nurses will put you in an exam room. Kade! Follow me!” He exclaimed, causing her to jump into action almost immediately. 

  
“When did my signature get so girly?” House asked, his eyes looking over the letter, shooting a glare at Cameron, as he moved the note down so he could look at her better. Eleanor leaned against the glass, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the interaction play out before her. 

“I can explain…” She starts, but the letter is then turned towards her.

“See that ‘G’? See how it makes that big loop on top? It doesn’t even look close to my handwriting, do you think I have something? What’s the differential diagnosis for writing ‘G’s’ like a junior high school girl?”

“I thought you always wrote like that.” Eleanor chimed in under her breath, causing Cameron’s eyes to roll at the banter.

“It’s impossible to get to you through normal channels; they’ve called, e-mailed, an-.”

“Perseverance doesn’t equal worthiness, next time when you want to get my attention, wear something fun, low-riding jeans are hot.” There is a moment of silence that overcomes the three of them briefly before Cameron continues.

“Sixteen-year-old male, sudden onset of double vision and night terrors with no apparent cause, he’s been to two neurologists an-.”

“Wait…Night terrors?” Eleanor interrupted, peaking over at House, who seemed to be as intrigued as she was, “Like big scary monsters?” She added, watching Cameron move back slightly to let the nurse join in on the conversation.

“Yes.” She responded, looking at the both of them, noticing that there was the same curious look plastered on their faces, as House pushed away from his desk and grabbed his cane.

“Let’s go check this out.” He motioned for Eleanor to follow.

“You’re going to examine a patient? You never examine patients.” Cameron commented. 

“Nine times out of ten there is absolutely no reason to talk to a patient, but night terrors in a sixteen-year-old is a very good reason to talk to this family, good work.” He explained, holding the door open for the nurse, letting her leave first.

“So does this mean we’ve got a new case?” Eleanor asked excitedly, almost sounding relieved that she would be able to work on another case, just so it would bring her out of the mundane routine that she had developed over the last couple of weeks.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, there might be a very simple explanation for what he has, let’s examine the kid first.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry it took me so long to update this, my computer messed up and it wiped my document :(, I'm glad I was able to get this chapter out though! Sorry I kept you guys waiting! Hopefully, this was a good chapter, although the next one will definitely be longer! See y'all in the next one :)


	4. Paternity (Part Two)

“Margins are fine, no lesions, and the colour is good.” House announced, leaning back away from the sixteen-year-olds face, withdrawing the light from his eyes, “How long have you been having night terrors?” He asked, placing his back against the cart behind him, glancing over at Eleanor who had been writing down the results in his chart. She seemed to have her eyes locked onto the sheet, which was beginning to fill up with her clearly messy, and smudgy handwriting. The parents stood behind their son, watching the examination unfold, by that point, the father had stayed silent, and the mother had done the same, letting their son answer the questions, but revamping them when they deemed it necessary. Their deep level of concern could’ve been mistaken for overprotectiveness to Eleanor, or maybe she just wasn’t used to seeing good parenting. 

“Three weeks.” The boy replied lightly, his voice barely audible to everyone, as his father intruded.

“He’s afraid to go to bed, he’s exhausted and can barely function.” House raised a hand towards the teen, flicking his fingers in front of his face, watching him flinch with each sudden movement he made.

“What does that tell you?” The mother asked, her arms crossing over her chest as if she was getting impatient with the examination. They wanted to have their son checked, so the nurse had no idea why they were in such a rush to get answers when it had only been seven minutes of questions and observations. Cameron moved around the room, leaning against the wall beside her coworker, watching her hand drag along the charting sheet, taking side notes of the way the parents were carrying themselves, not that it would make any sort of difference. 

“Nothing. It’s just fun watching him blink.” House responded, giving her a snarky jab that only his present group could catch, “Name as many animals as you can that begin with the letter ‘b’, go.” The five sets of eyes settled upon the teenager, who looked to be struggling to find simple names. The young nurse stopped writing, staring at the patient, awaiting an answer. She could see his eyebrows furrow in slight frustration.

“Um…Baby Elephant?” His voice was still at the same level of in-audibleness, but the answer was heard and fell on judgmental ears. 

“Baby Elephant is actually a good answer, ‘b’ is a bear of a letter.” The teen drooped his head in embarrassment, and disappointment, Eleanor could see the annoyance on his face and in his rich blue irises, the display was recognizable right away, she had done it a plethora of times when she was his age. 

“What does that tell you?” The father interjected, adding onto the array of questions that were being thrown around the room.

“It proves two things. No neurological damage and your son is never going to be the chief fry cook. In teens, there are two likely causes of night terrors, any recent shoot-outs at your high school?” 

“No.”

“Well then Dave-.” 

“It’s Dan.” Eleanor and Cameron corrected, attempting to prevent him from making the same mediocre mistake of using the wrong name again.

“If there’s no trauma the other cause is sexual abuse.” The mentioning of this touchy subject sucked all the air out of the room, and once again the group had reverted back to pure silence, exchanging discomforting glances at one another. Eleanor kept the pen against the charting sheet, gluing her eyes to the family that was shifting as if they had something to hide.

“So who’s molesting you?” House continues “Teacher? Extra-friendly neighbour? I’d ask if either of you were involved, but you’d deny it.” He comments, motioning to the parents who looked taken aback by the subtle shots he was making. 

“No no, we would never do anything to hurt Dan.” The father insisted. Dan stayed silent, but to Eleanor, the reaction could’ve been derived from how embarrassing the topic was in general. She could tell House was overanalyzing the situation. 

“I say it here, it comes out there…This lack of response is consistent with abuse.”

“There’s no one, okay? I-I got hit in the head during a lacrosse game.” Eleanor jotted the new information down, as House released a heavy sigh, glaring over at Cameron.

“Did you know that he got hit in the head?” The nurse raised her head, looking over at the immunologist, her cheeks dusting a light red.

“They didn’t mention it.” She replied.

“Yeah. Why bother?” House added, motioning for Eleanor to lead him out the door, signalling that he was done with the potential case. A frown of disappointment appeared on her lips, as she closed the chart, and shuffled out of the room, hearing his cane bounce lightly on the floor, following her to try and keep pace with her quick steps. The father rushed out of the enclosed examination space, catching up to them immediately.

“No, no, we took him to the ER after the game. He was scanned, they tested him, they said he was fine. No concussion. So it’s gotta be something else.” Eleanor opened up the charting sheet as he explained the results to House, circling the fact that when the ER checked him they found nothing pertaining to the trauma that he had gone through during his lacrosse game. 

“You hound me for my opinion, and then you question my diagnosis…Cool. Obviously the ER screwed up. The kid’s got a concussion.” House stated turning to the group who now stood behind him. 

“I had double vision before I was hit,” Dan added quietly.

“Well, that changes everything.” Eleanor could see the parent’s faces brighten slightly as if they had finally gotten House to realize that something was truly wrong with their son, though the expression was short-lived, “You need glasses.” Cameron rubbed the corners of her eyes with the tips of her fingers, shaking her head at where the conversation was going, “That’s why you had double vision, which is why you got hit, which is why you have a concussion, which is why you have night terrors. You need to see an ophthalmologist, which I am not.” Dan and his parents stood in front of him with disappointed looks plastered on their faces, not wanting to accept the fact that they had gone through this entire rigamarole just to find out that it was nothing. House left them to their own thoughts, as Cameron and Eleanor followed him towards the front desk outside of the clinic.

“Seemed like you enjoyed that a tad too much.” The nurse remarked, leaning herself against the filing station, with the chart tucked between her arm and her hip.

“I brought a reasonable case to your attention, and you shoved it in my face just to humiliate me.” 

“To humiliate you?” Eleanor questioned, her eyebrows raising at the complaint. 

“You’re an only child, aren’t you?” House asked as Cameron’s eyes widened at the inquiry.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because everything is about you…” Eleanor replied under her breath, noticing House smirking at the quick response that she had given.

“This might seem incredibly controversial, but I think sexual abuse is bad. I was just making sure that he wasn’t getting diddled by daddy or mommy…Anything else is just a bonus.” The nurse’s eyes roamed over to Dan, who was in a semi-deep conversation with his parents, watching him closely as House and Cameron continued their spar, noticing his leg swing forward. The movement was barely seen by her, but once she was locked onto it and saw the repetitive motion, she knew it was something to bring up.

“House, I think the kid's leg is twitching.” She could see his brows knit together, as he brought his eyes over to where she was looking, paying attention to the teen's leg, seeing exactly what the nurse had pointed out almost immediately. 

“Interesting…” He mumbled, making his way back to the clinic, with his associates following behind him.

“Don’t move.” House exclaimed, garnering Dan and his parent's attention yet again, “Did I bore you in there?” He asked, watching the teen stand from the part of the desk he had been sitting on.

“What? Uh, no, not- not really.” Dan responded, glancing over at his parents like he was nervous, or jumpy.

“Are you tired?”

“Sometim-.”

“He never sleeps. Of course, he’s tired.” The father interjects, now bearing a tone of frustration and annoyance.

“Right now, at this moment, are you tired?” House repeats, ignoring the parents at that point.

“No, no.” 

“That twitch in your leg, did you feel that?”

“…It didn’t hurt.” Eleanor wrote Myoclonic Jerk, beneath the information she already charted, and double-underlined just in case she didn’t know where to start first. 

“His leg twitched I don’t see wh-.”

“It’s actually a Myoclonic jerk, it usually happens when you’re falling asleep. If your respiration falls, the brain sometimes interprets this as your body dying, so it sends a pulse to wake it up.” Eleanor interrupted, looking up from the sheet, meeting the father's harsh stare.

“So?”

“Well…” She raised her pen, pointing it towards Dan, “As you can tell, he’s not asleep. He’s awake.” She stated, attempting to hold herself back from sounding rude or disrespectful towards the parent who had developed a case of defensiveness over the course of the interaction. 

“Admit him,” House added, stepping back to make an escape from the lobby of the clinic.

* * *

  
“So what does the jerk tell us?” The question fell upon the ears of the diagnostic team, who sat in front of him, minus Cameron, who was standing near the whiteboard, with the black erasable marker in hand. Eleanor pushed her chair forward, placing her elbows on the table, and cushioning her chin with the palms of her hands. 

“Nothing good…The brain is losing control of the body. It can't order the eyes to focus, regulate sleep patterns, or control the muscles in his body.” Foreman pointed out, as the four of them watched House fidget with his cane, looking up at the ceiling, similar to how he had seen Eleanor do it when they had their first meeting together.

“A movement disorder, or degenerative brain disease…Either way, this kid is going to be picking up his diploma in diapers and a wheelchair.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad.” Chase commented, “It could be an infection.” He added. Too hopeful for his own good, Eleanor thought, shaking her head slightly at his theory, flipping open the chart she had in front of her, pushing a few papers out of the way, searching through the information Cameron had taken down from the family.

“No fever, no white count.” House rebutted, shooting down Chase’s suggestion.

“We can’t even make a differential diagnosis.” Eleanor interrupted, “We don’t have an accurate family history.” She added, looking up at Cameron, holding up the sheet of paper she had written the information on.

“I took an accurate family history.” The immunologist countered.

“You didn’t even take an accurate family.” House interjected, as four pairs of eyes focused on him, “His father’s not his father.”

“What makes you say that?” Chase asked. 

“Well, thirty percent of all dad’s out there, don’t realize that they’re raising someone else’s kid.” 

“From what I’ve read, false paternity’s more like ten percent.” Foreman corrected.

“That’s what our mothers would like us to believe.” House shot back.

“Who cares? If he got it from his parents, they’d both be dead by now. Can we get on with the differential diagnosis?” Cameron intruded, annoyed by the back and forth that was going on. The two of them kept their eyes glued to each other.

“Fifty bucks says I’m right.” House challenged, trudging up a new bet for them.

“I’ll take your money,” Foreman replied, with slight cockiness lacing his voice.

“Hit a nerve? Don’t worry Foreman, I’m sure the guy who tucked you in at night was your daddy.” Eleanor smirked, tilting her head away from the Neurologist, so he wouldn’t notice.

“Make it a hundred.” He responded, doubling down on the bet. The nurse leaned forward.

“I’m in…” The two looked over at her.

“There’s only one thing we’re betting on though unless Foreman would be willing to split the prize,” House explained, causing Eleanor to shake her head.

“Not if neither of them are his parents and he’s adopted.” They paused for a moment.

“Now that’s dark…But I like your thinking.” House commented.

“What about Leukoencephalopathy? In a sixteen-year-old.” Cameron intruded, breaking up the conversation. 

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be that bad. If we exclude the night terrors, it could be something systemic. His liver, kidneys, something outside the brain.” Chase added.

“Feel free to exclude any symptom if it makes your job easier,” House remarked.

“The night terrors were anecdotal, he could’ve had a bad dream.” 

“Parents said he was conscious during the event, and didn’t remember anything afterwards, which means it was a night terror.” Cameron insisted. 

“Parents said?” Chase repeated, a smirk drawing up on his lips when he had noticed his colleague roll her eyes, bringing his teeth down on the tip of his pencil, almost mocking her in a way.

“Good point…Before we condemn this kid, maybe we should entertain Dr. Chase’s skepticism. I want a detailed polysomnograph. If he’s having night terrors, I want to see them. Foreman and Kade, you two stay for the night, monitor the EEG until he gets one.” House instructed, bringing his legs down from his desk, setting his feet down onto the carpet.

“I would prefer to do this with Chase,” Foreman remarked, shooting a look of distaste over to Eleanor, who returned a look of confusion to him, tearing her eyes away from him quickly. Chase shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to break the tension that was coursing between the both of them, giving House a pleading look.

“All three of you can do it then, call it team bonding, minus Cameron.” House declared, getting up from his office chair, limping towards the exit of the room, “As for me, I’m going home.” He added, leaving his team to themselves.

* * *

  
“He’s having Myoclonic Jerks when he’s awake and functioning?” Wilson asked, watching the nurse putting away the charts Janice had given to her when she arrived for the day, “No wonder House took the case…” He added, leaning against the shelving unit that Eleanor had perched herself between, adjusting his golden yellow tie. 

“He also has doubts about the paternity too, that’s probably another reason.” She mentioned, reaching above her head to slide a set of files through one of the open spaces she found, feeling her shirt ride up slightly. Wilson couldn’t help but glance at the exposed skin that bared an extensive array of stretch marks scattered just above her hip bone. They were barely noticeable on her pale tone, if it wasn’t for the harsh light that cascaded over the coworkers the Oncologist probably wouldn’t have seen them, although he probably would’ve found himself staring just like he was in those moments no matter what the situation. He cleared his throat gently, bringing his eyes back up to her, hoping that she didn’t notice his wandering eyes.

“Why?” She looked down at the pile in her arms once more, glancing at the last names, making sure she had organized them alphabetically.

“They didn’t provide an accurate family history.” She replied, pushing a few files to the side, “So House thinks the patient's father isn’t really his father, Foreman thinks he’s wrong, and I think the kid is adopted.”

“Huh…That’s a pretty dark assumption to make.” Eleanor let out a short laugh.

“That’s exactly what House said, but if he was paying attention to the way his mother and father were treating him, and how there is little to no physical similarities between the parents and their supposed son, I’m pretty sure he would be saying the same thing.” She explained, pushing another set of files into the shelve, “My wallet is also going to be a lot heavier because of my keen observations too.” The nurse added.

“And once again, you’re placing a bet on an assumption that could be wrong.” He commented, shoving his hands into the pockets of his grey dress pants.

“Yes, but if you remember the last time I gambled on something I ended up with your fifty dollars in my wallet.” She replied, a playful smirk appearing on her lips, “And this time my odds of being right are higher.”

“Why’s that?” He pressed, as she moved by him, going around to the other shelving unit, with the Oncologist following.

“The kid has a cleft chin, and neither parent has one, add that onto the list of things House didn’t notice when he was checking the patient.” Wilson leaned against the metal shelves once again, watching her sort carefully, as she crouched down, placing her knees on the ground. 

“Seems like you’ve got House beat when it comes to observing people.” He commented, watching her slip the remaining files into the rack.

“I definitely don't.” She replied, before getting up from the carpeted floor and dusting her scrubs off with the palms of her hands, “But if I did I’m pretty sure House and I would be at each other's throats.” The nurse added jokingly

“A riveting battle of the minds.” Wilson stated, “Might have to run for cover if that ever happens.” The comment made her lips turn up into a smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to warn you if I ever decide to challenge him to a duel,” Eleanor revealed, giving him a wink, looking down at her watch, as the playfulness was vacuumed out of the room, being replaced with dread, a distasteful frown now dawning on her face. Wilson immediately drew his attention to it, confused to see the quick change of emotion that happened within seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I have to do an EEG with Foreman and Chase in five minutes.” She murmured, moving past the Oncologist, his footsteps trailing closely behind her. 

“We didn’t even get anything to eat though.” He pointed out hurriedly chasing after her quick strides, they were supposed to go to the cafeteria after she put away all the files, but time must’ve gotten the better of her. Eleanor caught a hint of disappointment in his voice, and couldn’t help feeling bad even though it was for something so minuscule. 

“How about we go to White Lion afterwards then?” She offered, causing Wilson to stop abruptly with a questionable look plastered on his face, “The food is better than the cafeteria stuff, and it’s got alcohol too, which is always a plus.” The nurse added.

“You’re...Asking me to go to a bar with you?” Disbelief laced his voice, shocked to hear that she wanted to take the interactions out of the workplace, and surprised that she actually had the desire to be in his presence. 

”That's what friends do...They go out, get food, have a few drinks...If you don’t want to tha-“

“No no! I do! I just didn’t take you as the kind of person to go out and drink on a work night.” He interrupted. The bar scene truly wasn’t what Eleanor particularly enjoyed, but to her, it seemed less of an intimate outing than grabbing a cup of coffee at a café. She just wanted to get to know him more without the pressure of House making snide remarks or suddenly appearing out of thin air to interrupt, and to go without the impending assumptions people would have if they saw the two of them in a café alone together.

“I’m going for the food, not a drinking contest.” She replied, letting silence pulsate between them for a moment, the two colleagues keeping eye contact with one another, “So…Are you up for it?” He didn’t say anything for a moment, not wanting to emit too much excitement, or reply too quickly and catch her off guard. 

“Sure! We can meet at my office when you’re done.” The two agreed, and with that, Eleanor made her way to the EEG scan. 

* * *

  
“You’re late.” Foreman murmured frustratingly to the nurse as she slipped into the room, taking up a spot between the two doctors. Her eyes roamed over Dan, who had already been wired up and plugged into the EEG machine, in a semi-deep sleep. His body was pushed in an upright position, 

“Unlike you, I don’t just work for House, I have patients of my own that I have to tend to…Forgive me for being three minutes late.” Eleanor shot back, picking up the chart from the table, and clicking open her pen.

“Are you saying that my job isn’t as important as yours? Because I’m definitely not going to take that kind of comment with a grain of sa-.”

“Can you guys just hold off the arguing for a few minutes and watch the screen? My job description didn’t mention that I have to be your babysitters.” Chase interrupted, looking at the Neurologist and nurse, who were shooting angered stares towards each other. Eleanor couldn’t comprehend where the hatred was coming from on Foreman’s end, she hadn’t done anything to make him dislike her this much apart from being present in meetings and conversations, maybe it was the vibe she had given off, but even so, she had held herself back from gloating, and even decided to display herself as being more open than she actually was, how could someone have issues with that? She thought, digging the sharp nail of her thumb into her palm, feeling it break the thin epidermis, but not letting it go deep enough to draw blood. No matter how hard the young nurse tried to be likeable, it just seemed like there would always be someone there to hate her even more. 

She shifted slightly, and tore her eyes off of her two colleagues, bringing them over the chart, noticing that nothing new had been added to her extensive notes she had taken. She was expecting them to be marked up, and corrected, possibly with sidetones saying that some of the information she tracked wasn’t needed or was out of place, yet there was nothing of the sorts. Her fingers gripped the edge of the paper and flipped to the back of the page, still holding her pen in her hand whilst doing so, before drawing her eyes up to the screen in front of her. The stark white background brought out the blue lines that shimmied across it, some of them were straight, and others had slight curves to them, but it wasn’t a sign that he had experienced a night terror yet.

The three of them waited in his room until the purply mist of the sky had disappeared, leaving only the darkened night to take over. Eleanor drew the curtains closed, looking over her shoulder at her two teammates who stood without any movement, with their hands shoved into their pockets, staring at the young boy. From what she could tell; Chase didn’t seem to have a care in the world, it wasn’t like he was wasting his time, and nor did he mind the complete silence that was hovering over the room. A thimble could’ve dropped on the floor and it would’ve sounded like an atom bomb going off, yet neither of them decided to speak. One of the lines flickered upwards, breaking up into the one above it, before returning to its stagnant position, taking away the glimmer of hope that spun through Eleanor. A sigh escaped her mouth, as she shook off the numbness that was starting to creep up her legs and settle on her thighs, fidgeting on her heels to increase the blood flow. She wondered what her other two counterparts were thinking during this time to make them not move a muscle or flinch when the line shot up, the nurse assumed that they had grown accustomed to the tests taking up a larger portion of their workday, but just by the dormant looks that were plastered on their face, and the bored stricken glaze that coated their eyes, she could tell the both of them wanted the process to go by faster. She cleared her throat, preparing herself to say something, being interrupted by a light vibrating noise, drawing her attention back to the screen which now bared the wonky, out of place lines that shot across the screen. Chase reached his hand out, wrapping it around Dan’s wrist to take his pulse, before turning himself to Eleanor and Foreman.

“That’s a night terror.” He confirmed, shoving his hands back into his lab coat.

“We’re going to have to run those tests in the morning then,” Foreman mumbled, looking over at the nurse who had taken note of when the night terror occurred, closing the chart when she was done, releasing a soft sigh.

"I’ll book him in for an MRI before I leave.” She informed, handing the paperwork to Chase, who gave her a friendly smile and nod. Foreman didn’t seem pleased with the offering but left the situation alone, not desiring to be in her presence a moment longer. He walked out of the room without a word, abandoning Chase and Eleanor at the foot of Dan’s bed, with confused looks on their faces. The nurse let out a frustrated sigh, catching her colleague's attention.

“I’m sure he’ll come around.” He commented, giving her a gentle pat on her shoulder as if he was trying to back up his reassurance. 

“Hopefully.” She muttered.

* * *

  
White Lion was bustling with crowds of people when Wilson and Eleanor arrived at half-past ten. Due to the location of the bar, it was a feeding ground for businessmen, doctors, and students looking to have a much-needed break from their hectic lives. The two coworkers weren’t expecting it to be that full for a weekday though, yet it seemed that their assumptions were proving to be wrong. A hostess stood at a podium a few feet in front of the entrance, with a low cut top that had the name of the bar written across it, accompanied by a pair of black jean shorts, and a belt that held her notepad and pencil for order taking. For a cold fall night, it seemed like the attire wasn’t that appropriate to wear outside, but Eleanor assumed that it was part of the uniform. A wide, toothy smile was drawn up on the young girl's saturated red lips as she gathered two menus and a miniature drink slip.

“Hi, there! Welcome to White Lion! Would you two like a table or a booth?” Her voice was high pitched and joyful, though the nurse could detect that it was a forced tone unless that was always how the girl sounded all the time. If that was the case, there would be an even larger problem on her hands, she thought, as she glanced up at Wilson expecting him to make the decision, not having a seating preference in mind. 

“Uhm…A booth is okay.” He replied, a friendly smile appearing on his lips, watching the young lady turn around and search the crowd for a moment, before motioning them to follow her. They filed through the bar, shuffling behind the girl who was strategically weaving through the groups that coagulated around them, avoiding crashing into people whilst keeping a hard-working smile on her face. Wilson and Eleanor slipped into either side of the booth adjusting themselves slightly as they removed their jackets to get comfy. 

The cold air of the bar slipped across her exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her pale tone. She wore a washed-out blue long sleeve button up, which was open, creating a frame for her tight black camisole that hugged every curve she had beneath the thick material. Her ginger hair was pushed behind her, and was now out of the confines of her work bun, bearing the thick waves that it had curled into throughout the day. The sight took Wilson off guard for a moment, and he couldn’t tell what he should look at, though he came to the conclusion quickly that he would be keeping his eyes above her collarbones, and not anywhere close to the cleavage that the top summoned, or the milky white skin that practically glowed beneath the dim yellow light they sat under. The waitress placed the menus on the walnut coloured table.

“I’m Lauren, I’ll be your server today, could I get you two started with some drinks?” Her tone was lower compared to the hostess, but she still had a kind demeanour. 

“I think I’ll just have a stout beer, and some water too if you don’t mind,” Wilson said, noticing that Eleanor was skimming the drinks menu. The waitress wrote his order down and waited patiently for the nurse to come to a decision. She hadn’t touched alcohol in quite some time, though it wasn’t like she placed herself in that position without reason. Work usually got in the way of her going out with her colleagues, and even throughout university, she practically stayed indoors, except for the times she went grocery shopping. 

“I’ll have gin with just a little bit of ice, and some water as well.” Wilson’s eyebrows raised at the drink request, surprised by the fact she didn’t want to mix the alcohol with anything but ice. The waitress walked away with a nod, leaving the two of them. Eleanor caught the look on his face and countered it with a smile, and a little laugh.

“What?” She asked, slightly confused at the look that was painted on his face.

“I thought you would be into rum and coke…Or even a martini.” Her nose crinkled at the mentioning of rum and coke, accompanied with a head shake.

“Rum and coke rarely does the job. Martinis are good, but I’m not really in the mood for a mixed drink.” 

“But you’re in the mood for gin,” Wilson commented.

“Well…Gin does the job.” She replied, giving him a sly wink, as she opened up the menu, searching for something that would eradicate her hunger, her eyes glancing at him briefly, noticing that he had followed her actions. They sat in silence until their drinks came to the table, being set out on a tray in front of them and sorted quickly. Her gin resided in a Highball glass, with a few slices of lemon and lime so she would be able to tell the difference between the alcohol and her water. Wilson’s beer was in a pint, displaying a dark brown, almost black liquid, that foamed nicely on the top. He looked pleased with his order, even though he had second-guessed himself moments after asking for it. 

“Have you two decided what you want to eat?” She asked, holding her tray against her torso, securing it with her arm.

“Um…I think I’ll have the buffalo chicken wrap, with fries.” Eleanor said lightly, closing the menu.

“I’m going to go with the steak sandwich and onion rings,” Wilson added, as the waitress scribbled down the order, and nodded, collecting the menus up in her arms before moving away from the table, leaving the two colleagues alone once again. They immediately went for their corresponding drinks, tapping their glasses together, exchanging small, shy smiles before taking a sip of their alcoholic beverages. The gin ran over her tastebuds, and slipped down her throat, the familiar burning sensation instantly sending tingles through her esophagus, settling in her stomach, as she pulled the chilled glass away from her lips.

The last time she had gin was at her older brother's wedding, and the only thing she could remember from that event was the hangover that occurred the next morning. The nurse had been glued to the open bar the entire night to avoid her father and extended family. She had contemplated not attending but realized that her mother, her older brother and her older sister, would’ve never let her live that decision down. From that tiny sip, those repressed memories flooded back in her mind, though she controlled the dread that trudged up in her mind, pushing it down under the surface once again. Wilson caught her mouth purse at the taste, before returning back to normal. 

“Too strong?” He asked jokingly.

“Definitely not.” She replied, taking another sip to further prove her point, this time she didn’t flinch, or move a muscle, “It’s pretty smooth, just the way I like it actually.” The nurse added.

“I’m assuming you drink straight gin often then?” He pressed, holding his glass of stout beer in his large hand. 

“Hmm…You would be wrong on that one. I rarely drink, so I’m not really a connoisseur of alcoholic beverages, the gin is just a preference.” She informed, watching him loosen his tie slightly, growing more comfortable in the conversation, taking another swig of the murky brown beer, as she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. A beat of silence passed, and the fear of the outing turning awkward began to dawn on the nurse, her mind instantly attempting to conjure up something that would take the edge off and break the ice a little more.

“I noticed you have a Touch of Evil poster in your office...And a Vertigo poster too. Seems like you’re into film noir, but I gotta say...Rear Window is the superior Alfred Hitchcock Film.” His eyes widened at her statement. 

“Vertigo is the superior film. Rear Window is a generic Hitchcock favourite I do-.”

“Woah Woah...Psycho would be the generic favourite.” He paused for a moment.

“Alright, you’re right on that, but, when talking about Hitchcock the film that is mostly discussed after Psycho is Vertigo or The Birds, rarely do people talk about Rear Window.” Wilson responded, stirring the pot a bit more, even though he held himself back from saying that Rear Window was on the list of his top five Hitchcock films. He just wanted to watch her get more flustered as she continued to attempt to prove her point, finding it admirable that she wanted to defend something so minor. The Oncologist liked the feistiness she emitted, and seeing her out of the workplace environment made his curiosity for her grow even more than before. 

“Rear Window is a classic thriller, you can’t go wrong with it. Vertigo isn’t something that everybody watches and enjoys, which in turn, means that Rear Window is the superior piece of film.” She explained, taking another sip of her gin. 

“Rear Window must have such a large place in your heart if you’re willing to go down in a losing battle for it.” He teases. 

“It’s one of my favourites, so of course I’ll die on the hill for it.” She shot back. A defeated look appeared on Wilson’s face, realizing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere in the convincing department.

“How about...We agree to disagree.” She smirked, biting her inner cheek lightly.

“Hm, you go down so easily.” The comment threw him off, just by the tone she had delivered the sentence in, but didn’t show how caught off guard it made him. 

“I’m a people pleaser I guess.” Her tongue ran over her bottom lip briefly.

“You definitely are... Although, from what House has told me about you it seems like you’ve got another side to you.” A sense of dread overcame him, thinking of all the potential lies that House could’ve possibly told her about him. His friend knew too many secrets of his, all the exposing he could do to him would be damaging to any friendship no matter what.

“What other side do you mean?” Wilson questioned, genuinely curious as to what House said about him. He raised his glass to his lips, beginning to take a gulp of beer. She shrugged.

“Well apparently having affairs with young nurses is your vice.” The mentioning of this caused the strong alcohol to get stuck in his throat, making him cough loudly, small splutters of liquid scattering over the chipped glossy table. His cheeks turned a bright red, heating up from the embarrassment.

“It’s…Worse…Than I thought.” He responded between coughs, covering his mouth, before wiping the table off with one of the napkins. She couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, seeing the colour in his face go the deep red she had longed to lay eyes on again, enjoying the awkwardness that he radiated in these moments.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t actually believe him…But there seems to be a little bit of truth to it if you’re this embarrassed.” He shook his head, taking a sip of water now, attempting to remove the stinging sensation that was in the back of his throat.

“I’m not embarrassed, I just wouldn’t expect him to say something like that, especially because it’s a lie.” She squinted at him, noting his insistence on the fact that what House told her was a lie. The nurse automatically assumed that there was some truth to it, but Wilson wasn’t willing to admit his faults to her, at least not yet. They sat in silence for another moment, and before either, one of them could say something the waitress brought their food to the table. The harsh spices of her wrap caused her stomach to growl, the underlying hunger suddenly erupting throughout her body, as the scent of Wilson’s onion rings intertwined with all the other delectable smells that flowed through her nostrils. Both of them decided to take a minute to relish in their food, taking large bites out of their meals, slowly chewing to savour the flavour, like they hadn’t eaten in years. Wilson was the first person to break the bout of silence though.

“…I never had an affair…Those encounters House referred to were all after my divorces.” She raised her eyes to his, hearing him sheepishly admit the truth, “And yes…I said divorces, plural.” He added, taking a bite from his sandwich. Eleanor picked up one of her fries, dipping it into some ketchup.

“And you’re married again, right?” She asked, seeking confirmation in that information as well, earning a nod from the Oncologist.

“Lucky number three.” He responded nonchalantly, popping an onion ring into his mouth.

“Do you mind if I asked what happened to the other two?” He paused for a moment and sighed.

“How about we do a trade-off…You answer a question for me, and I’ll answer that question for you.” She nodded, agreeing with his proposal, watching him take another sip of beer, dabbing his mouth off, bringing his eyes back to hers. “House told me that your heterochromia was caused by you getting hit in the face by a soccer ball…I don’t really believe that story, and I was wondering what really happened if you don’t mind me asking of course.” The question took her off guard, but the approach he had with asking it seemed respectful and unobtrusive. She chewed slowly on one of the French fries, thinking about whether or not she was ready to fully admit what caused the permanent change to her eye colour. It wasn’t a huge deal to everyone else, but to her, the story would only create more questions, and knowing how close Wilson and House were, there was a high chance that he would end up finding out the truth as well. 

“I’ll tell you…But if House finds out about this I’ll throw a shoe at you.”

“I won’t tell him, it’s between you and I.” He reassured, sitting back in the booth. She took a long swig of gin, feeling the burn, and relishing in it before exhaling loudly, prepared to revisit the situation all over again.

“When I was fifteen, I came home from school with a below-average report card, I attempted to hide it from my father, and successfully did so for a few weeks, until he found it in my room when he was searching through it. That night at dinner he threw it in front of me and told me to read the date it was given to us. I apologized, and he told me I had disappointed him, I reassured him that it wouldn’t happen again. There were some issues that I was going through during final exams, and I ended that year with a sixty-four percent average, which wasn’t even close to my normal grades I would earn throughout high school. My father found out, and he told me that he would never see a mark like that ever again when he was done with me. To this day I can’t remember what happened, but all I know is I woke up in a hospital, and stayed there for a week with a severe concussion, and this.” She explained, pointing to her eyes, “My mom defended him, and lied to cover everything up, told all the nurses that I was beaten up by the kids at school, and of course, they believed it.” She added, taking another gulp of gin, closing her eyes tightly. Wilson couldn’t help but feel bad for bringing up the situation but was grateful that she actually trusted him enough to tell him the truth, though it only made him trudge up more questions.

“…Is that why you decided to go into the medical field? Because you wanted to provide help for hurt people?” 

“Oh no no no, I’ll answer that question once you answer the one I already asked.” He nodded.

“Alright…” Now he was on the hot seat, lifting the glass to his lips, taking a sip of beer, placing it back down onto the table “I’m a people pleaser like you mentioned, but I just keep on pleasing, and giving, until the person I’m with pretty much gets sick and tired of me. My ex-wives got irritated because I would conform to every need they had, everything they wanted I would provide, and I guess they just didn’t want someone that was pretty much submissive to them…Women want men that will stick up for them and defend themselves, I’m not really like that as you can tell.” She nodded, although she couldn’t comprehend why a woman wouldn’t want someone who was that sweet and caring. The only thing a person should want is a significant other that would treat them right, but it seems like these two exes took a different approach to that. 

“You’re not like other guys, but I don’t think that justifies a divorce.” Wilson shrugged.

“According to them, it did.” He took a bite out of his sandwich, swallowing the food before continuing, “Your turn.” She pushed her hair out of her face, licking her chapped lips, and nibbling on the inside of her cheek, drawing a little bit of blood, the light coppery taste flooding over her tongue.

“I wanted to actually become a diagnostician like House, but my father wanted me to be a nurse. He thought it would be better because he thought my other siblings would refuse to take care of him…Me being a nurse would reassure him that I would look after him when he gets older.” The thought of her not being able to achieve her goal due to the restrictions her father placed on her was angering, but things were definitely starting to make more and more sense the more they spoke to each other. The way she acted, the way she carried herself, and how she observed and figured out the Adler case was all from her own training and practice. She knew that she would’ve been able to get to her goal without any worries, but there was always those impending thoughts of disappointing her father, and no matter what he did to her, she just had the desire to make him proud. Those were one of many faults she held with her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took so long! I've been working my butt off to get this chapter done, but life has been interfering with my process, of course. Hopefully, this chapter didn't disappoint y'all! Thank you for reading :))

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter, I know it's quite a chunky one, but I wanted to establish a few things. It's my first time attempting a fanfiction about a show that has such well-rounded characters, so I hope I portrayed them well! Thank you guys for reading, and I'll hopefully see all of you in the next chapter :)


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